What You Do Afterwards: Season Four
by myheadsgonenumb
Summary: It's all gone to hell. The family has splintered, loyalties are divided and no one knows who they can trust … or whom they should love. It seems like all hope has abandoned the team, as they struggle to move forward from the sins of the past. Is there light at the end of the tunnel? Or is it just a train? A S4 'Doyle lives' rewrite. Ch88
1. Deep Down: Part One

**A/N This is a full 'Doyle lives' Angel season 4 rewrite. It follows on from my seasons 1, 2 and 3 rewrites; which, if you haven't read, you can access by clicking on my name and going to my profile page. Obviously, this story will make more sense and be more enjoyable if you have read the first three seasons - but anyone with a working knowledge of season 4 could probably dive in and understand most of it. As with the show, though, some important seeds for this season were planted towards the end of the last (some have been being planted for even longer!) so the final reveals will have more weight to them if you have read the nods and winks and clues along the way - even if you didn't pick up on them at the time. **

**So - the drill is the same as always: all 22 episodes are rewritten (not yet - I have been so lazy, but I'll try and stay ahead of myself so we don't end up having to have a massive hiatus) and each are divided into 4 parts - posted Friday to Monday - and follow the four act structure of the show. Doyle - being still alive - is the linchpin of the changes, but this isn't _his_ story and we spend time in the POV of every meaningful character. He has not been allowed to steal anyone's lines or actions (visions aside) and so everyone gets their big moments and goes through character developments.**

**Relationships this season are Gunn/Fred/Wesley, Wesley/Lilah and Angel/Cordelia/Doyle. And still nobody loves Lorne : ( **

**A word of caution for those coming off s3 and hoping for the best: this is still recognisable as s4 Angel. If anything, the loss of a rather pivotal character to the story arc has meant that the twists and turns have had to be even more painstaking and arduous. if you're a big hater of s4 you might not like this story - although that depends on what aspects of s4 you hate. I think the most *ahem* offensive parts have been removed. Hopefully that will be enough to get you through it. But - if you want that promised happy ending - we need to power on through the dark times.**

**As with the show, this season is really, really serialised. Not a single episode doesn't contain either massively important events or something that will turn out to be crucial to the plot further down the line. In fact - the same might be true of every single chapter. This really is one big story, in the way that previous seasons have not been, and understanding the continuity is crucial to understanding what the heck is going on. **

**I'm still not Joss Whedon (thank goodness) and i still don't own any of this ... though I am less intent on destroying these characters than their creator was, so that should count for something. **

**Enjoy...**

* * *

_"Bottom Line is, even if you see 'em coming, you're not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we? Helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are."_

_-Whistler, Becoming Part One _

* * *

**Deep Down**

_Part One_

_Lorne handed Fred the bowl of mashed potatoes - the whole Thanksgiving table was laden with dishes, groaning under the weight of their feast. 'Here you go, darling,' he said - and she took them off him with a smile. 'you gonna eat all that?' Gunn asked, watching the amount she ladled onto her plate, 'until I'm fat and happy,' she leaned in for a kiss. _

'_Anyone want sweet potatoes?' Cordy asked, lifting the bowl up and offering it around. _

'_Oh pass them here, doll,' Lorne said to her. He took them off her and glanced at the yams, appreciatively. 'Oh these look good - you know, back in Pylea, they used to call me sweet potato?'_

'_Really?' Cordelia looked sceptical._

'_Yeah - well the exact translation was 'fragrant tuber' but …' Everyone laughed. Cordelia turned to look at Angel. He was sat beside her, unmoving - a warm smile on his face. 'You not hungry?' she asked him._

'_No, I'm starving. It's just - I wanna freeze this moment. You - Connor…' he looked to his left, where his infant son sat in his high chair. Connor's first Thanksgiving. He had a little plate of turkey and mashed potato and stuffing - most of which he had managed to smear all over his little face. The vampire turned back to the rest of the table, his smile growing ever warmer, 'all of us,' he said, 'safe - and happy - and together. After everything we went through in the summer …' he trailed off. _

_At the other end of the table, Wesley leaned forward - out of the shadows - and raised his wine glass. 'To family,' he toasted._

'_As long as it's not mine,' Lorne cracked - and everyone laughed again. They clinked their glasses together. Cordelia picked up the water pitcher and began to pour it into Angel's wine glass. 'You can't toast with an empty glass,' she told him._

'_It's not bad luck is it?' _

'_Angel, relax,' she smiled, 'it's all over. Things are back the way they should be - and nothing is ever gonna break us apart again.' She leaned in closer, her smile becoming more flirtatious. 'And if anything tries - I'm gonna get physical and personally kick its ass.' _

_He also leaned in - smiling, 'I like it when you get physical.'_

'_Well - play your cards right…' They moved in to kiss, her arm snaking around his neck - drawing him in closer. _

'_Ah - man,' Doyle said from his place beside Lorne, 'I know I gave you guys my personal blessing, but do I really have to see this?'_

'_Close your eyes, little Irish man,' Cordy replied, but she pulled away - her and Angel smiled sheepishly at each other. 'I'm sorry,' Angel said to the half demon, 'we'll be good.'_

'_It's OK, bud,' Doyle winked at him, 'the better man won. Hey, where are the rolls?'_

'_Careful - they're hot,' Cordy passed them across. Everyone tucked into their meal - the plates passed from hand to hand, plates were refilled - talking was replaced with munching. But somehow - no matter how many times a dish went past him - Angel never managed to get a hold of the food. 'Hey - can I just…' the plate of green beans was passed across him. He got nothing. _

'_Stuffing?' Lorne asked - it was passed to him, Angel tried to grab it. Nothing._

'_These sweet potatoes are good,' Doyle said through a mouthful. _

'_Pass 'em here, Irish,' Gunn held a hand out and Doyle passed the bowl over. 'Can I get the…' Angel tried again._

'_Salt please,' Asked Wesley._

'_Pass the carrots,' requested Fred._

_The food was moving faster and faster, from hand to hand. 'Delicious,' Wesley pronounced. But still Angel got none. No matter what he tried to grab, he always missed it. Eventually, he managed to grab a laden platter - but when he brought it down to his plate, there was nothing left but the juices. He looked at the woman to the right of him. 'Cordy - what…?' He knocked his glass to the floor, it smashed and the liquid pooled on the ground. Cordelia glanced down, 'now look what you did, silly.' As she spoke, the light changed. The warm, festive glow was replaced by a blue, watery light. The room suddenly felt cold - and empty, and Angel found himself standing ankle deep in water. He looked up in alarm. The table was empty - the remnants and debris of the feast were strewn across its surface - but the chairs were all pushed back, and his family were gone. Angel was completely alone._

_..._

He woke up, gasping. Water had leaked into his casket - and, through the window, he could still see the darkness of the ocean's depth.

* * *

Doyle walked through the streets of Downtown L.A. Throughout the summer, he had found himself patrolling the area around their old offices more and more. He remembered how it was - that first year - those early days, just the three of them. How Angel would lock himself away in his underground lair, brooding - and he and Cordy would laugh together at their taciturn boss. Back then - the vampire had been far too hooked up on Buffy to even notice that Cordelia was alive - never mind that she was an incredibly admirable and attractive woman. Doyle had had her all to himself.

When he walked through the streets, sometimes, he liked to pretend that it was still the fall of '99. That he was making his way to their little office and, when he got there, Angel and Cordy would be waiting for him. He especially liked to pretend it was the night - so long ago now - when he and Angel had taken out a vampire nest, and then he had walked back alone. Cordelia had arrived back from her disastrous date, only to be attacked by a massive vampire that had followed Doyle back to the office. Her date had screamed and run away, abandoning Cordy to her fate - until Doyle had come back out of the office, crossbow in hand and taken the demon out. That was the night Cordelia had started to fall in love with him.

He knew he shouldn't pretend it was still the distant past. Those days were long gone and they were not coming back. Fantasising about 1999 was just another crutch for him, like drinking and gambling had been. But at least it wasn't destructive. And Doyle was a weak man - an emotional cripple - he always needed some form of crutch. And in the dark - in the old streets, around their old place - he could really make himself believe it was the old days. In the morning, however, when the sun came back up - the harsh light of day forced him back down to earth, with a crash. It was 2002, now, and Cordelia loved Angel - not him. And Angel was missing - and so was Connor - and no one had seen either of them for three months.

He trudged on through the streets - wary for any signs of trouble. He was on patrol - someone had to be, and Wesley wasn't out tonight - the half demon didn't know what the watcher was doing with his time, but he was often unavailable when it was time for them to hunt. Maybe Wes' heart just wasn't in the good fight anymore.

As he walked past an alley, leading off Skid Row, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a tussle. Glass smashing, wood splintering, something heavy being tossed around - and a scream. 'There we go,' he muttered to himself, 'and I thought tonight was gonna be a boring one.' He rounded the corner - and pulled up short.

An enormous, scaly creature - with glowing eyes and sharp claws and a curved beak - was attacking a young woman. 'Help!' she screamed, 'Help!' The beak snapped at her - taking a chunk from her arm, she tried to twist away - but the demon lunged in at her, again.

Doyle gulped. This was a bit bigger than he was used to taking out on his own … but he could hardly be like Cordelia's date from the old days, and turn tail and flee. So he morphed into his demon spikes, for the added strength they would give him, and ran at the demon. He grabbed it by the neck, from behind, and used all his strength to haul it away from its victim. Tossing it aside, he turned to help the woman back to her feet. She took one glance at his green skin and red eyes - looked back at the scaly creature - and then screamed, scrambled to her feet by herself - and fled down the alley, back to safety.

Doyle shrugged, 'can't say I blame her.' He turned to face the demon - which screamed out in frustration at losing the woman and began to snap its beak at Doyle, instead. The Irishman jumped backwards, creating distance between them - and then pulled out the small crossbow he had stored under his jacket. 'Say goodnight, sunshine,' he snarled - and pulled the trigger.

The bolt hit home, impaling the demon in the torso. It threw back its scaly head and squealed out in pain. Then it unfurled a pair of massive wings - beat them a couple of times - and then flew up into the sky. Doyle watched it go, craning his own head back to follow its progress.'Y' can fly?' he called after it, 'that's cheatin'!' But the demon paid him no heed - and, moments later, it had disappeared from view.

The Irishman shook his head. He'd never seen anything like that before - and he couldn't imagine it portended anything good. Besides, he had failed to kill it - which meant he would have to find it again. He was going to have to see Wesley - whatever the British man was up to - he was going to have to stop it. Giant, women eating, bird demons would have to take precedence over a night in, alone, with a bottle of scotch and an episode of Jeopardy.

As he stowed his crossbow away, again, and made his way out of the alley, Doyle tried, very carefully, not to worry about the fact that he hadn't had a vision about that demon - or that woman. He tried not to worry that he hadn't had a vision of the sheerhoth demons he and Wes had taken out, in the sewer tunnels, last week. Or a vision of the warlock, who had only narrowly escaped being eaten by the Jarvlen flesh eater he had summoned by the men's timely intervention, a couple of days ago. As he left the alley, he tried, very carefully, not to worry about the fact that he hadn't had a vision in months - and that the last vision he remembered having was the one he had on his birthday - back in May.

* * *

Fred and Gunn raced down the alleyway - they rounded the corner and then piled into Gunn's pickup. 'You OK?' Gunn asked

'No. You?'

'No.' He turned the ignition and the engine roared into life. 'It's nice the way we still do these things together,' Fred quipped - though her voice wavered - as they sped away.

'You think it's working?' Gunn asked. BAM. He was interrupted by a vampire dropping down - as if from out of the sky - and then landing heavily on the hood. 'Seems to be,' Fred replied. The vampire smashed its fist through the windshield - and Gunn swung the steering wheel, swerving the truck crazily - trying to dislodge the vamp. After a few more wild swings of the wheel, the vamp was thrown from the car. The street fighter hit the brakes, and they came squealing to a stop.

Just opposite them, a red convertible pulled up - so it was blocking the exit to the alleyway - and a whole load more vampires came spilling out. 'Blind alley,' Fred said, looking at them, 'remind me again why this is the plan?'

'Hey - I aint the boss around here,' Gunn replied. Then he jumped out of the truck and faced down the vampires. 'Now your ass better be insured!' he yelled.

'If I were you, I'd be worrying about your own ass, mister,' the lead vampire said, he helped the downed vamp back to his feet, and then stalked towards the young couple.

'Look, we're only here because we need to find the girl,' Fred said to him, trying to talk him down.

'Tell us where she is - and we're gone,' her boyfriend added. The vampire began to chuckle, he didn't see why he should give up primo information - when he could just have himself a 2 course meal, instead. Fred levelled her crossbow directly at his heart. 'We just wanna talk to her - that's all.'

The vampire looked at the wooden bolt pointing directly at him, and snorted in disgust. 'Marissa?' he said, 'condemned building on Figueroa, top floor - and tell her I want me CDs back.'

'We'll pass that along,' Gunn snarked. But the vampire had changed his mind. He could always get his own CDs back. Maybe he'd just kill the two of them, instead.

'I was so hoping you'd say that,' a voice said, from behind the gang of vamps. They turned - and before they could react, Cordy had staked one vampire through the heart. There was a startled moment of silence - and then the lead vampire snarled and dove towards Cordelia. But Fred fired her crossbow bolt - and he was dust before he even reached the other woman. Gunn leapt into the fray - and began to beat on one vampire. Cordy punched the other. It swung at her, but she ducked and then kicked him in the chest. As he staggered back away from her, Fred aimed her crossbow again - but this time the bolt went wide.

The vampire quit attacking Cordy and dived on Fred, instead. He knocked the weapon from her hand and pinned her against the truck, 'what are you gonna do without your little toy - pretty girl?' he leered.

'Use another one.' She released the stake launcher from her wrist - Angel's old hidden weapon - and plunged it deep into the vampire's heart. He dusted - and the cloud cleared just in time for her to see Gunn quit pummelling his own vampire - and stake him. 'Man that was some work out!' he grinned, 'and Fred - damn girl - you took out two!'

She grinned and blushed.

'Yeah - good work, everyone,' Cordelia said, 'and most importantly - we got what we came for.'

'I'd say most importantly we didn't die,' the street fighter said - but he shut up when the woman, who had been running Angel Investigations in the absence of Angel, just stared at him. 'We got what we came for,' he agreed.

'So now we go see her - beat her as necessary - until she tells us what happened to Angel and Connor,' Cordelia summarised the end of her plan, which so far had gone off without a hitch; Gunn's broken windshield notwithstanding.

'But what if she didn't see anything?' Gunn asked.

'She used to feed up near the bluffs where Angel was supposed to meet Cordy,' Fred pointed out, 'if she was out that night - she saw what happened.'

'I just don't think we should get our hopes up. We've been three months looking for Angel and Connor - and the only thing we're closing in on is an eviction.'

'_Hello!' _Cordelia sounded irritated, 'did I not tell you I would take care of everything? We can run the business and pay the bills and find Angel and Connor. We just got ourselves a major lead - we did good tonight!'

They piled back into the pick up, and Gunn began to manoeuvre around the convertible - getting them out of the alley. 'You know we might find this a whole lot easier if Lorne was pitching in,' he said, 'where's our future reading empath demon when you need him?'

'Mr. Big-hit-in-Vegas if too busy Danke-schoning the tourists to care about us,' Fred said, a little bitterly.

'Did you try calling him again?'

'Only about sixty times!'

'Guys!' Cordelia interrupted, 'it doesn't matter - we can do this. We have our lead. Nothing else matters.'

'And what if all vamperella saw is sand and seaweed?' Gunn asked her, as he drove towards Figueroa.

'She didn't - she is the key to this.' Cordelia was confident. But Fred did not share her determined optimism. 'Maybe we should think about finding some alternative leads - for if this one doesn't pan out?' she suggested.

'Like what?'

'Well,' her voice took on a very careful edge to it. 'I know you won't like it - but … what if Doyle had a vision?'

'Doyle hasn't had a vision,' Cordelia replied, shortly - trying to cut off the conversation.

'Well, what about his underworld contacts?' Gunn asked.

'They can't help, either.'

'But how can you know that if you don't even talk to him?' Fred sounded exasperated. But nowhere near as exasperated as Cordelia did, when she replied. 'Look, Fred, I know that little weasel better than anybody - at least, I thought I did. He is just creeping around looking for a way back into the family - back into my life.' She snorted with disgust, 'so do you think - even for a moment - that if Doyle had absolutely _any idea_ where Angel was, or how he could find him - he wouldn't have done that already? Slimed his way back into our home as the hero of the hour?' She shuddered.

But Gunn and Fred exchanged a worried look. Cordelia's harsh words were masking the heartbreak she still felt - the pain of his betrayal. She had been hoping to move on from him, the night Angel had disappeared, but now all she was left with was regrets and loneliness and fear for the vampire and his child. She had been a whirlwind of activity all summer - hunting down leads, beating them up - gaining information and slowly gaining on Angel's whereabouts. She had taken over Wes' old office as her own, and used it as command central - searching the web, making phone calls and using the books to research any possible lead. But all that hive of busyness had just been hiding how much her heart was still hurting. And whenever she was forced into idleness, such as during a car journey, that hurt would become bitter words.

The young couple hoped they found Angel soon - for Cordy's sake as much as his. Their current boss needed some happiness in her life, needed anything to take the sting out of what had happened over the summer.

'There_ is_ always another line of enquiry,' Fred said - as the truck sped through the streets, heading into an even seedier part of town.

'No,' Gunn said, without even asking what she meant. The woman looked put out. 'Well - I'm glad we're at least discussing it.'

'Wesley isn't going to help us,' her boyfriend told her, 'he doesn't give a damn about us.'

'Have we given him any reason to?'

The street fighter shook his head, in frustration. 'Wes made his choice,' he said, 'now he has to live with it.'

* * *

Sated and sweaty, Lilah sank down so she was resting against Wesley's naked chest. 'Well, that didn't suck,' she murmured, 'well - maybe just a little bit.'

'Maybe it's something we can expand on next time,' Wes suggested, wrapping his arms around her. She laughed in delight and craned her neck upwards, nuzzling into him and licking his cheek, 'what makes you think there'll be a next time?'

'You can't resist me.'

'I think you have that backwards.' She rolled off him and got out of the bed. Wesley watched her, 'where are you going?'

'Snack break's over,' she said, pulling her shirt on, 'time to get back to work.'

'And Wolfram and Hart does it's best work after dark.'

She wriggled into her skirt, 'Sun's bad for your complexion - just ask Angel. Oh wait, you can't, because of that whole wanting you dead thing.'

Wesley lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, 'who would have thought that kidnapping his son would have had such a negative impact on our friendship?' His voice was ironic and his face impassive - he revealed nothing of the pain in his chest that he felt whenever he thought about the missing baby, which was almost constantly.

'You thought you were doing the right thing,' Lilah was saying, as she placed her slingback heels on her feet. Wesley dragged himself out of his reverie of Connor and forced himself to listen to her. 'I hear that can be confusing. Have you tried talking to him? Maybe when he gets back you could …'

He forced out a laugh. 'I have no idea where Angel is, Lilah, or what happened to him. And I really couldn't care.'

Lilah actually looked surprised at his words, 'wow, that was cold.' She went to sit on the edge of the bed, 'maybe we're finally making progress. Come on. Doesn't it bother you just a little bit? The not knowing?'

'That part of my life is dead. Doesn't concern me now.'

She gazed down at him, 'no - it doesn't,' and then she leaned in to give him a quick kiss goodbye. But Wesley pulled her closer and gave her a much deeper, more lingering kiss. She was smiling, as she pulled back and got up to leave.

...

Lilah walked out of the door and headed for the elevator. As the doors closed behind her, blocking her from view, Doyle walked up the last flight stairs to Wesley's floor and reached the watcher's hallway.

...

When Wes was sure that Lilah had left, he got out of the bed and pulled on a pair of pants. Then he made his way over to the closet and unlocked the door. There was a second door inside - a set of bars. He opened his mouth to speak…

...

'Wesley man we got trouble,' the front door flew open, and Doyle barged in, 'I just had a vision of this big beaked demon thing snacking on a woman…' the half demon came to a halt, as he saw what was inside the closet. 'Wesley, man… _what?_' The watcher was keeping a red headed woman chained and gagged, inside of his wardrobe...


	2. Deep Down: Part Two

_Part Two_

_Angel stood at the viewpoint, gazing down to where the waves broke against the bottom of the bluff - sending plumes of white spray up towards him. He turned back to his car - and there was Cordy, stood waiting for him. He smiled, 'I didn't think you were coming,' he said to her. She smiled back, 'you know me better than that … better than anyone.' _

_He shrugged and looked self conscious,'I don't know about that.' _

'_Yes. You do.' She walked towards him, joining him at the cliff's edge and looking out. 'It's so beautiful, here,' she said. But Angel was oblivious to the view, he couldn't take his eyes off her. 'Yes, yes it is,' he told her, 'just the way it should be.' Then he frowned, as he saw a quick flash of something else - Holtz - pushing him over the cliff face and snatching Connor from his arms. 'But, it's not,' he said, 'this isn't how it happened.' _

'_No,' Cordelia looked thoughtful, as she tore her eyes away from the ocean and looked back at him, 'but I like this version better.' _

'_It was Holtz, he was here…' he remembered the vampire hunter - and his cold voice - and the feeling of falling down the cliff face, knowing he had lost everything. But Cordelia stepped closer to him, she rested her hand against his cheek and stared deeply into his eyes - making everything better. 'I can't remember what it was like,' she said, 'not knowing you, not being close to you. I'm in love with you, Angel. Deep down, I think I have been for a long time. I was just fooling myself, before, with … refusing to see what was right in front of me. But I get it now. I see you - I see us. I just needed you to know that.' _

_He wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her in for a kiss - soft at first, but then deeper - more lingering. When he pulled back, he stared straight into her eyes. 'I need you, Cordy. I need you.' _

_She wore Jasmine scented perfume, and he nuzzled into the side of her neck - taking in the smell of her. He could feel her warmth and, as he kissed her neck, was aware of her heartbeat hammering in her chest, the pulse in her throat beating frantically in time - and the blood pumping through her veins; warm and delicious. He vamped out and bit down, hard. She gasped in pain and shock. 'I'm sorry,' he said pulling away for a moment, 'I'm so sorry,' and then he bit down harder, and drained her heart's blood, devouring all of her until there was no more._

_..._

He jerked awake - screaming. He was still trapped in his watery grave.

* * *

'Justine Cooper,' Wesley told Doyle, 'Holtz's second in command. She knows where Angel is, she knows where Connor is … at the moment I am simply - convincing - her to give up that information.'

'Wesley, bud…' Doyle stared at the chained woman, aghast. She was down on her knees, behind the bars; a shackle around her neck, a cloth tied into her mouth and her hands taped together. 'Wesley - we do not do stuff like ... _this_. We're meant to be the good guys!'

The watcher gave a dark chuckle, 'we gave up any rights to call ourselves the 'good guys' when we stole our best friend's son and lied to the people we love. But this … _person _has harmed Angel in some way, taken his child and now abandoned him. I cannot take back what we did, Doyle, but I can find Angel - and I can reunite him with Connor. Justine needs to pay for what she did to Angel - and she can do that by helping me find him.'

But Doyle was still looking horrified, '... _no!'_

Chained to the floor, Justine glared at the two men who stood above her, arguing her fate. She despised them both. And if Wesley thought he could break her - by locking her up, by forcing her to dive in the ocean searching for the casket she had sunk down there - then he had no idea. She was already broken, there was nothing left to break. Let the vampire's friends argue about right and wrong - she had nothing left to lose, she didn't care which one of them won.

...

_They had driven all the way to Utah, the three of them, and set up in a little ranch. It had been so different from how it had been back in L.A. Even Daniel was different. They had been happy. They had their revenge, the vampire was trapped - forever - beneath the ocean's depth. No one knew where he was, no one would ever find him - maybe in a few decades he might get hauled out, but not before it was too late - before starvation had reduced him to a permanent vegetative state. Angelus had nothing to do but go quietly crazy, under the water, knowing that his oldest enemy was raising his son to manhood. _

_There had been tenderness, on the ranch, and laughter. She and Daniel had made love. They had made a home. They cared for the child. And whilst Stephen did not replace the son Angelus had killed, having someone to love - after all this time - had given the vampire hunter a new purpose, a different purpose. Justice had been done - and now he could move forward._

_But it had lasted too short a time. It had barely been a month when, one night, as Justine lay Stephen down in his crib, they had heard the sound of an engine approach, grow louder - and then there had been the crunching of gravel, as the vehicle pulled up outside their little house. _

'_Justine,' Daniel's voice had been wary, alarmed, 'someone has found us - take Stephen and run.' She didn't want to leave him, but she would always do as he told her. They served Justice, not their own wants and needs. If he was afraid of discovery, by Angelus' people - then hiding Stephen was what mattered. She picked up the baby and headed for the back door. _

_But, as she had run through the house, she had caught sight of him through the windows. It was Wyndam-Pryce. On a motorbike and clad all in black leather. She fled through the back door and tumbled into the van, stashing Stephen into his car seat. But, as she switched on the engine, she heard the sound of a single gunshot. She had cried out, in grief, in pain … fearing what that sound signified. But, if it was as she feared, then she had to do what Daniel had asked of her, his last request. She pressed the pedal to the metal - and roared away from the scene of her contentment. _

_She drove through the mountains, constantly checking her mirrors for the motorbike gaining on her. She glanced to the side, she had to dump the kid. Wyndam-Pryce would catch up with her - he could travel faster than she could - she had to make sure that Stephen was not with her when the British man found her. _

_She wound her way through the twisting roads. Eventually she found what she was looking for. A church. Not a Mormon one - Daniel would not have wanted that - a Catholic one. He had been a recusant Catholic in England at a time when popery was deeply frowned upon, when the Pope had deemed that all good Catholics should be in a state of open rebellion against the King. It was impossible to be a good Englishman and a good Catholic back in Daniel's day - but still he had tried. His faith had mattered a great deal to him. So she would leave the vampire's child - their child - in the arms of Daniel's church. _

_She pulled up and got out of the van. She took Stephen down, keeping him wrapped in his blanket and strapped in his car seat, and took him to the church doorstep. She kissed him on the forehead, 'be safe, Stephen, remember your father - Daniel - loves you - and you are better off here than with the vampire.' Then she got back into the van and drove away - heading back the way she had come; then taking another fork in the road, putting as much distance between herself and the church as she could. _

_He had caught her in the end, she knew he would. And he had been angry that she had abandoned the baby. He had hit her - over and over, until she was bloody and bruised - but she had refused to tell him where Stephen was. Daniel was dead - as she feared. Wyndam-Pryce had gunned him down on the doorstep and then walked over his body into the house, trying to find the vampire's child. That she had managed to keep Stephen away from Angelus' people was the only thing she had left, all she had to hold on to - she would not give away the secret of his whereabouts in this lifetime. No matter what the watcher did to her._

_He kept her alive - of course - she was the one that knew the information he so desperately sought - and kept her chained in the closet during the day. At night, he took her out on a boat - seeking Angel. She had had to tell him what she had done with the vampire. He had threatened to take away the bucket he had provided her with if she didn't give him that much. But nothing would induce her to tell him where the baby was. They would never find Angel - one casket in the entire ocean - he was lost forever. And as long as she kept quiet, so was Stephen. _

_Daniel would be proud of her. And that was all she had left. So she didn't care if Wesley kept her as a slave, or if the Irish guy convinced him to free her. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing would ever matter again. She was broken._

_..._

'Wesley, man, you gotta let her go. I can't let y' keep her here like this.' Doyle had never been more shocked by anything in his life. Even the discovery that he was, himself, a demon rated only second to finding that Wesley - his only friend, his brother - was keeping a slave girl bound and gagged in his bedroom closet. 'This isn't what we're about!'

'How else do you suggest we find Angel?' the watcher asked him. The Irishman stared at Justine - who glared back at him, silent because of her gag. There was a bucket in the corner, and the stale smell of urine was drifting from it. With mounting horror, Doyle began to understand just what sort of conditions - the degradation - Wesley was keeping this woman in. As if the chains and bars were not enough. 'Look,' he said, tearing his eyes away from the woman and looking back at his friend, 'you said you're keepin' her to help find Angel. But you must know roughly whereabouts she dropped him - if you've already been out. You don't need her anymore. She can't give exact coordinates, what else can she do?'

'Hmm - and who exactly do you suggest goes diving to look for him - if I no longer have Justine?'

Doyle stared at him, then he looked back at the bound woman - and made up his mind, 'I'll do it,' he offered. 'I'll go diving for Angel - anythin', please - just don't do _this_, Wesley.'

'She knows where Connor is.' He hid his pain, when he spoke of Connor. His voice not giving any hint of the grief he felt for the loss of the boy he had grown to love as a son.

'Has she told you, yet?'

'No.'

Doyle sighed, deeply. 'Then she isn't gonna.' He was pleading, almost yelling - as he tried to make Wesley see reason. 'Look, bud - you've taken her freedom, locked her up, forced her to go deep sea divin' and made her go to the bathroom in a bucket. And she's still resisting y'. Y' can't break her, Wes … but y' can lose yourself, forever - if you keep on doin' this. I know we've been to a dark place - both of us - done stuff we regret, can't change. But it's time to move on - redeem ourselves. And y' can't fight evil by doin' evil. I'll help y' get Angel, I will - and then we'll think of another way to find Connor but, please, bud, _let the lady go_.'

Wesley looked back at the half demon, appraising his arguments. 'It will be dangerous, under the water. Cold, dark.'

'I accept that.'

'It may take many nights searching - we can't give up until we find him.'

'I accept that,' Doyle repeated himself. 'Look - all the dangers, all the difficulties. I'm willin' to take it all. But what I'm not willin' to do is let you lose your soul to this darkness.'

'How touching - funny you weren't thinking about that when you stabbed me in the back, sold me down the river to protect yourself.'

Doyle sighed again, 'and I'm sorry for that, I really am - but now I'm tryin' to make it up to y'. Please - let me go searchin' for Angel in this woman's place. Let her go.'

'It matters that much to you?' Wesley's voice remained calm, in direct contrast with the impassioned pleading coming from Doyle.

'It really does.'

It was Wesley's turn to sigh. He pulled a shirt over his bare chest and then looked at Doyle, 'we'll go to the harbour, then - you can look for Angel, if it means that much to you.'

'It's not about Angel - I'm doin' this for you.'

'I think I might be past saving,' the British man said, sounding resigned. 'But thank you for trying.' He then walked over to the closet and looked Justine in the eyes. 'You have always been a slave, Justine,' he told her, 'you just couldn't see the chains. This is your opportunity to be free. Your opportunity to give up vengeance. You can continue to be a slave - or you can live your life. Your choice.' He dropped the keys in front of her. 'I expect you to be gone when I return,' he told her, 'if you're not - I will kill you.'

He turned and left the room. Doyle gave the woman one last, horrified look, and then followed the watcher out.

* * *

The door burst open and Cordy rushed in, sword in hand. 'Knock knock,' Gunn said, following her in, 'you know, we could've done that the quiet way.'

'It doesn't matter,' Fred told him - looking around the squat they found themselves in. 'Looks like she's out.' The room was cluttered with the pickings the female vampire had stolen from her victims. There was a mattress in one corner, the stuffing spilling out of it, the dirty sheets screwed up. The air was stale and old - and there was no sign of Marissa.

'Man this is nasty,' Gunn said, wrinkling his nose in disgust and staring around, 'how can people live like this?'

'Helps to be dead,' Fred replied.

'Just one more reason to stay pink and rosy.'

Fred smiled at him, and then looked across at Cordelia, 'it smells like she still lives here,' she said, trying to sound optimistic, 'should we wait and see if she comes back?'

'No need,' their boss pulled the blankets back and picked up a set of headphones that were lying on the mattress. They were blaring out music. 'She's still here.' The three of them all looked upwards, and Marissa dropped down from the ceiling - knocking Fred and Gunn to the floor. Then she dove towards Cordy - but the woman expertly ducked her blows and then backed her into the corner. Once she had the vampire up against the wall, she lay the blade of her sword against her throat. 'We just wanna talk, Marissa, that's all,' she said, 'you answer our questions - we leave you alone.'

'I don't know anything,' the vampire protested defensively.

'You psychic?' Gunn asked her.

'No.'

'Then shut up and let us ask the questions first.'

'You know the bluffs down by the beach?' Fred asked her.

'No.'

'You used to feed there,' Gunn pointed out.

'Oh - those bluffs.'

Gunn then told her their interest in the area - three months ago, they had lost a friend around there.

'Tall. Good looking, weird hair?' Marissa asked.

'And probably carrying a baby,' Cordelia added, her sword still at the vampire's throat. 'Did you see them?'

'I see lots of things - what do you care?'

'I care. So let's try again, did you see them?'

'Bite me!'

Fred and Gunn exchanged an exasperated look. Cordelia was out of patience, though - she pulled a cross out and held it up at Marissa, who shrank back. 'Wrong answer. Now I'm gonna ask my question again, and if you don't give me the information I'm looking for - I'm gonna press this cross against your face and hold it there 'til it burns through to your skull - understand?' Her eyes were furious. Marissa cowered, and nodded. 'Good - did you see them?'

Marissa nodded again - and then allowed her vampiric features to melt from her face, in hope of appearing more sympathetic to the furious woman who held her life in the balance with her sword. 'Yeah - I saw them. He was by himself - and then the baby began to fuss and he took him over to look at the ocean.'

'So what happened to them?' Cordelia never relaxed her grasp on her blade, and she maintained eye contact the whole time - keeping up the challenge until the undead demon gave her everything she wanted to know.

'Then - then there was this other guy,' Marissa stammered. 'He had your friend on the cliff edge - he hit him, and your friend lost his balance...'

For a moment, Cordelia closed her eyes in despair. She remembered all too clearly what Angel had said to her, in training, just that day: _you lose your balance - you lose. _But then she snapped her eyes back open, remembering the creature she was dealing with now - and knowing that she mustn't lower her guard. 'What did this other man do?'

'He - he grabbed the baby - and pushed your friend over the cliff edge.'

Gunn looked confused. 'That don't make sense - Angel's a vampire. Falling off a cliff would barely slow him down.'

'There must be more to it,' Fred agreed.

'Are they right?' Cordelia asked, her eyes exuding menace, 'is there more?'

Marissa nodded, carefully, trying to maintain distance between her neck - and the blade that Cordy pressed against it. 'Yeah - I didn't see exactly what happened next but … the man went down to the beach, still carrying the baby. And a while later a boat sailed out into the ocean. They came back - the man, the baby and a woman - but your friend wasn't with them. They got in a van and drove off.' Marissa squinted at Cordelia, 'and that's round about when you showed up.'

Cordelia lowered her sword, and backed away. She had missed the people who had attacked Angel - and stolen Connor - by mere moments. And if Angel had been taken out to the ocean - and then never returned… if he wasn't dust in the wind, then there was only one place he could be.

She felt sick. Her stomach was churning and the gorge was rising in her throat. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. 'Angel,' she whispered to herself. She turned to leave - and Marissa saw her chance.

'Watch out,' Gunn yelled, as the vampire dove at Cordelia's retreating back. But Cordy spun on her heel and slashed her sword through the air. In one, fluid movement, she severed Marissa's head from her body - and the vampire crumbled to dust. She stared down at the pile of ashes on the floor. 'Come on,' she said to the others, 'we found out everything she knew.'

* * *

Once they were back at the hotel, Cordelia stalked straight into her office and slammed the door behind her - shutting Gunn and Fred out. The pair of them stared at the forbidding barrier of the closed door. 'What do we do now?' Fred asked.

'Maybe try Lorne again?' her boyfriend suggested. Fred sighed, and nodded and went over to the phone. For what seemed like the hundredth time, she dialled the number in Vegas - though she doubted she would have any more luck this time.

* * *

Lorne sat in his dressing room, his face was being powdered ready for the show. 'Now go easy on me,' he said to the make up girl, 'remember they're paying to see the green.'

A big guy came into the room - holding out a cell phone, which looked ridiculously small in his beefy hands. He handed the cell over to the anagogic demon. 'Two minutes,' he said.

'Thanks sweetie,' Lorne took the phone, 'A bonsoir,' he said into it.

...

'Lorne? Lorne!' Fred signalled Gunn to come over and join her, when she realised she had finally got hold of her erstwhile friend. 'It's Fred, I've been trying to get hold of you.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, hon. I've been booked out the wha and past the zoo. If I get any hotter they'll have to stamp me out.'

'Lorne, I know you're busy - but we need your help. We found a lead - they saw what happened to Angel. Someone attacked him and stole Connor, it must have been Holtz. But we have no way of tracking them. Did you speak to your connections. Did you find anything out?'

'Not a peep,' the Host told her, 'but if I miracle ear anything I'll send up a smoke signal.' Inside his dressing room, the beefy guy pointed to his watch - Lorne's time was up. 'Ah - that's my cue. Take care of yourself - and make sure fluffy's getting enough love.'

'Lorne!' Fred yelled - but it was no good. Down the other end, the line went dead; she hung up the phone in frustration.

* * *

'Did he have anything?' Gunn asked.

'No. And who's fluffy? Are you fluffy?'

'He called me fluffy?'

'He said make sure…' she wrinkled her nose up, 'wait - you don't think he was referring to anything of mine that's fluffy, do you?' she looked uncomfortable, 'because that would just be inappropriate.'


	3. Deep Down: Part Three

_Part Three_

Lilah walked into the boardroom. Linwood and Gavin were already in there. 'You found Angel?' she asked. Linwood smiled at her, pleasant - but dangerous. 'Young Gavin's had a breakthrough with the psychics.'

Lilah managed to hide her irritation and gave the real estate attorney her best patronising smile. 'Brain boys are finally earning their keep, so where is he?'

'I haven't pinpointed his exact location, yet. But I have ascertained that he's safe and immobilised.'

Her smile grew broader - he had nothing. 'Maybe you can lead them in a rousing chant and get them to muster up a little more vague?'

'He's contained and out of play,' Linwood told her, 'which suits our purposes just fine.'

But Lilah was unimpressed - Linwood was always acting like Gavin was the golden boy, always pathetically pleased with any little thing the young attorney achieved. Probably because it was Linwood who had promoted him and moved him across to Special Projects, in the first place. Gavin was his protege - and anything he achieved reflected well on Linwood. So their boss was looking to magnify those achievements and bask in the reflected glory.

Lilah, on the other hand, had been in the department longer that the two of them combined. Anything she achieved - credit would go back to the man who had hired her - and Holland Manners was dead. Linwood wanted his own people running the department, wanted to shape Special Projects in his own image - and that meant sidelining Lilah - a fact she was all too aware of. But she was not going to be ousted from the department she had given her left hand for by a couple of johnny come latelys. She knew the Angel project better than anyone - she wasn't going to be fooled into thinking that 'safe and contained' would be enough for the Senior Partners. That it suited their purposes to remain unaware of the vampire's whereabouts.

'Only if our purpose is to be caught with our prophecies down,' she said to them both. She was taller than them both - and she used her height to stare down at them, condescendingly. 'Angel is supposed to be a major player in the apocalypse. The little pet project the Senior Partners have been working on since - oh - the beginning of time? Three months and all you've been able to ferret out is - nothing?'

She must have hit a nerve, because Linwood bristled - and then decided to change the subject, with a threat. 'Lilah - Gavin's work with the psychics has uncovered some invaluable intel in a variety of unexpected areas.' He met her eyes with a challenge, 'care to enlighten me?'

She straightened up, 'what I get up to in my personal time is none of Gavin's business.'

'But everything is mine,' her boss said.

'I'm not sleeping with him for information.'

'Please don't tell me it's the chiselled jaw.'

'It could be worse,' Gavin smirked, 'she could be sleeping with the half breed.'

Lilah baulked. 'That's disgusting!' she said, she sounded disgusted too, 'he's even shorter than you are, Gavin.' That wiped the smirk off his face - and she stood a little taller in her heels.

'Children, children,' Linwood chided, he fixed his stare onto Lilah, 'if you have his confidence, it can be used to our advantage.'

'He doesn't know anything,' she replied, 'There's nothing to take advantage of.'

'Except you,' Linwood retorted - a warning in his voice. 'Staff meeting in an hour,' he told her, 'don't be late. Gavin.' The pair of them walked off together, into the elevator. Lilah watched them go. The pair of weasels had it in for her. She needed to act.

* * *

The boat sailed through the waters. They had already tried one grid - and failed to find anything - and they had moved onto the next one. Doyle, peering over the side of the boat, was beginning to understand just what a massive undertaking this was - and how impossible their task seemed.

There was - acres? Miles? Fathoms? He didn't know how distance was measured at sea - but there was lots of it, even here, not far from the harbour. And they had nothing but hope that Angel would have sunk to the bottom somewhere nearby - and not just drifted. And - as he stared into the black depths - and thought about how cold it must be, he began to regret offering to be the deep sea diver on this little mission.

He took a deep breath. He couldn't let Wesley keep a woman chained up as a prisoner in his closet. If Cordy ever found out - and found out that he'd known and done nothing about it … he shook his head. They were on the path to redemption. Or at least - he was. This was just another part of his atonement. And if he could buy back Wesley's bruised soul with this action, as well - then all the better.

There was a beep on the radar. Doyle tore his eyes away from the waves and looked up. Wesley examined the instruments, trying to work out what it was. 'Solid contact,' he said, 'definitely metallic.'

'Y' think this is it?' The half demon asked, 'Y' think that's the crate they sank Angel in, down there?'

But Wesley shook his head. 'I've been searching for two months. Justine has pulled out more shopping carts, bicycles and license plates than can be counted.'

'Well - at least y've been doin' your part to clean up California's oceans,' Doyle joked, feebly. Wesley didn't smile, 'it's probably just more trash - but there's only one way to find out.' He threw a diver's mask at the Irishman. Doyle caught it and looked down at it in his hand, swallowing hard.

'You regret offering to do this for me?' The watcher asked him. Doyle paused for a moment, and then shook his head. 'No. I don't want y' forcin' slave girls to do this for you. There's some lines we can't cross, y' know - this is the price of that.'

'You're getting awfully hung up on the fate of the woman who attacked Angel and kidnapped Connor,' Wesley said, 'she'd have killed us all, if Holtz had told her to. She'd have killed Cordelia.'

Doyle swallowed, again, and then began to - rather self consciously - remove his shirt and pants, before pulling on the wetsuit. Fortunately he was a similar size to Justine - she was tall and powerfully built, for a woman - and he was small and undersized, for a man. It fit him quite well. 'Yep,' he said, 'I care about all that.'

'and yet you don't think my actions were justified?'

The half demon took a deep breath, 'y' needed to know where Angel was - I get that you needed that information from her - and I get that it might have been difficult to come by. But … you've never been to prison, bud, at least - not so I'm aware. You've never been locked up and powerless - and not known if you were safe, or not. Or had to use the bathroom with people watchin'. If y' had … maybe you'd be seein' it more from my perspective.'

'You went to jail for one weekend,' Wesley pointed out.

'And it was long enough!'

'You're hardly a lifer.'

'No - and now neither is Justine.' He put the mask on, 'well, this is it - wish me luck.' He strapped the oxygen tank to his back, put the tube in his mouth to check it was working and then sat on the edge of the boat. He counted to three. And then to five. When he reached ten, he finally worked up the nerve to tip himself over and into the waves.

...

Wesley watched him disappear beneath the blackness - wondering what it was he would find down there. No, he thought, he had never been to prison - had no insight into how Justine would have felt trapped in the cage he had built for her. But then, Doyle had never been a father - and had no insight of how it felt to have the son you loved, more than anything, stolen away by enemies and lost somewhere in this vast continent. Justine had got what she deserved - and it pained Wesley, more than he could bear, that he was now back to square one when it came to finding Connor.

* * *

_Doyle was stood on top of the roof of their office building - looking out over Downtown. Angel came up behind him, 'beautiful isn't it?' he said. They'd been here so many times before - his first sunset in two hundred years, the time he had killed Penn … it was never quite the same, but it was always him and Doyle - together._

'_Yeah,' Doyle agreed, not turning to look at him._

'_The lights - twinkling like fallen stars. The noise and bustle of the city, so hushed up here. It can make you believe that you're all alone - in a city of 6 million people. So peaceful.'_

_Doyle finally turned to look at him, 'I hear it's overrated - peace. The loneliness - eats away at y' after a while. It's better to be around people, bring you out of yourself.'_

'_That's why you came to me,' Angel said, smiling, 'to bring me out of myself - stop me being alone. Stop the loneliness from driving me crazy.'_

'_Yeah,' the half demon began to smile, too, 'that's why I came to y'.' He never saw the right cross coming. But he hit the floor and brought his hand up to his mouth - tasting the metallic tang of his own blood. He looked upwards, 'Angel, man, what?'_

_Angel kicked him - in the ribs - where he lay, and then hauled him up - holding him by his lapels. 'Is this really what you came for?' the vampire demanded. 'Were you ever really on my side?'_

'_Angel - please…' But Angel cut him off by thumping him again. The half demon twisted in his grip, but the vampire didn't release him. 'You came into my home, made me trust you - made me follow your mission - and then you stole my son! And look where it got me…' the rooftop was beginning to fill with water - Angel was ankle deep in it. _

'_I didn't mean…'_

'_I'll make you pay for this!' Angel yelled in his face - as the water rose ever higher around them, 'I'll make you pay for this - you bastard!' and he dragged the Irishman over to the edge of the building and then bodily lifted him over the side. He held him only by his shirt._

'_Angel! Angel!' Doyle's voice was frantic, he clawed at Angel's arms, trying to find purchase - to hang on. But the vampire was relentless. Brown eyes met terrified green ones - and held their gaze, 'this is all your friendship was ever worth,' he snarled - and then let go. Doyle screamed, as he fell towards the earth - the carpet of lights growing ever closer…_

_..._

Angel woke up again - gasping in shock, his whole body trembling at the images he kept seeing in his mind. His eyes snapped open - and he looked out of the little window - right into the startled green eyes from his dream. Doyle was under the water with him. Doyle had found him.

* * *

Cordelia sat at her desk, barricaded in her office, she had her head buried in her arms, which rested on the desktop. Angel. Connor. It was worse than she feared. She had always known that it must have been Holtz who was responsible for his disappearance - and she had always feared what form that revenge would take. But this … they had taken him out on a boat - and returned without him. And then they had driven away, with the baby. And left Angel trapped under the sea. How was she supposed to go about finding him under the sea? Her shoulders shook with her grief.

After a long time, when her eyes had turned red from crying and her throat was sore - she sat back up. They had to find another lead. There had to be another way - there must be something that would tell her where Holtz would go. And the woman - whatever she was called. There must be a way of tracking them down. She was the boss of Angel Investigations, now - this was her job. And she had to do it - and succeed - for Angel - for Connor.

She stifled another sob, and wiped her eyes. Then she got out of the chair and rifled through a cardboard box under the desk. This was where Wesley's old diaries were kept - the ones he had thrown away the night of the original kidnapping, the ones Fred had rescued from the dumpster. The watcher had been meticulous - he had kept separate diaries for all the major players, there must be a journal dedicated to Holtz. Maybe it would give her a clue as to where he would go. Maybe it would tell her who that red headed devil woman was. Maybe - maybe - even though he had betrayed them all and stabbed them in the back - along with Doyle, no less - maybe Wesley would still have left them something behind which could help.

She found the diary she was looking for, and settled back in her chair to read it.

* * *

Back on board and divested of his diving gear, Doyle stood beside Wesley and watched as the ship's hoist slowly hauled the metal casket aboard. 'Beginner's luck,' Wesley said to him, as it landed on the deck. 'Luck o' the Irish,' Doyle corrected him.

The watcher lit a blowtorch and began to cut through the welds that secured the side bars in place. 'Well, this is all very handy and masculine of y',' Doyle said, watching. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered - the night air was cold out on the water, especially after being submerged.

'Doyle, come on,' Wesley slid the bars out of their sockets - and then Doyle joined him, and they lifted the heavy lid off the casket. The watcher then took out some cable cutters and snipped at the steel ropes which bound the vampire in place. They both stared down at him. After three months at sea, his skin was pale and cracking - his eyes were unfocused. 'Man - he looks awful,' Doyle breathed. 'Can he hear us? Does he even know we're here…'

Angel's hand suddenly reached up - and grabbed Wesley around the neck.

* * *

After Fred had put the phone down, she stared back at the closed door to the office. 'Do you think I should go in there and speak to her?' she asked Gunn, 'take her some coffee? Check she's OK?'

Gunn followed her gaze, and he too stared at the barrier Cordelia had placed between her and her associates. 'I think she just needs time,' he told Fred, 'when she wants us - needs us - she'll come out. Cordy aint exactly the shy and retiring type when it comes to gettin' what she wants.'

'In the meantime - what do we do?'

'I got one or two ideas,' he leaned down to kiss her, but she pulled away - although she was smiling. 'Charles! This is serious. This is about as bad as things have ever been - we gotta concentrate.'

'On what - what can we do?'

'Well - that's rather the question before the court, isn't it? We need a plan.'

Gunn shrugged again - and pulled away from Fred to lean on the counter. 'The way I see it - we can't do nothin' until we find Holtz. We find Holtz - we find Connor - and maybe Angel.'

'But it took us three months just to get the lead on Marissa, how are we gonna find Holtz? - He could be anywhere in the States by now! And,' she sighed, and looked at her boyfriend questioningly, 'how on earth do we go about finding Angel. It sounds - from what Marissa said - like he's had a burial at sea. What? We gonna hire a boat and go deep sea diving looking for him?'

'If that's what it takes.'

'And how long will that take? The whole ocean! Charles!'

'Hey hey,' he pried himself off the counter and wrapped his arms around her, to comfort her. 'Angel's undead - he doesn't need to breathe, he don't need to eat and he aint gettin' any older. It can take as long as it takes.'

'But to be stuck down there? All alone?' Tears were standing out in her eyes, as she thought of him, 'not knowing where Connor is, or if he'll ever be rescued? I can't imagine what he's goin' through. I can't bear to imagine what he's goin' through. We have to find him. We have to rescue him. He's countin' on us to rescue him.'

'We will, babe, we will,' Gunn assured her, hugging her more tightly. She pressed her face against his chest and used his t-shirt to blot her tears. Then she looked back towards the closed door, 'and in the meantime - if we can't help Angel - I just wish there was something we could do to help Cordy. Her heart must be hurting so much, right now.'

'We'll help her when she lets us help her.' Gunn replied, 'we can always be there for her - she knows she can count on us, no matter what. We're the only family she has left, now.'

* * *

'Woah, bud - careful,' Doyle moved to Wesley's side - to help him, but there was no need. Wesley caught hold of Angel's arm - and gently lowered it from his throat. 'You OK?' the Irishman asked him. He nodded, 'Angel is very weak at the moment,' he said, 'confused, delirious - he's in no fit state to harm us.'

'So what do we do?'

'Help me get him below.'

...

Together, they lifted the vampire out of the casket and manhandled him downstairs and into the cabin. Once below deck, they placed him on a table top and Wesley brought out a jar, which contained a thick, red, viscous fluid.

'You thought to bring blood?' Doyle said - thought the answer was obvious.

'Pig's - I've had some on every outing, just in case…' He unscrewed the lid, and then supported Angel's head - lifting it so he could drink. The vampire began to resist - but Wesley held him still and forced the jar to his lips.

'He doesn't seem like he wants it,' Doyle pointed out.

'He hasn't fed in three months,' Wesley replied, 'he doesn't know what he's doing. A vampire can survive indefinitely without blood, but the damage to the higher brain functions, from prolonged starvation, can be catastrophic.'

The Irishman stared at the vampire, 'you mean - after all this - we might still be too late? He might be past savin'?'

'I hope not.' He turned his concentration back to Angel, 'can you hear me?' he asked, 'drink - drink.' He tipped the jar further - so the blood ran directly into Angel's mouth. Angel began to cough and Wesley glanced back at Doyle. 'We should call the others - let them know we're on our way.'

Doyle took out his cell, and then thought of having to speak to Cordy - after all these months - about Angel . That was - if she even gave him the chance to get past 'hello' - or if she even picked up in the first place. 'You call 'em,' he said, 'I'll carry on feeding him.' He moved closer to the table, and took the jar from Wesley.

* * *

The door to the office opened - and Cordelia emerged. Inexplicably, she was smiling. 'I think I've found something,' she told the other two, 'it's not much - but it could be the beginning of another lead.'

Fred grinned back at her - looking surprised. She hadn't realised that Cordelia had been working in there. 'That's great,' she enthused, 'what did you find?'

'Well - it was in Wesley's diaries,' the other woman admitted, 'don't look at me like that,' she admonished, catching the look in Fred's eyes, 'he threw them out - left them behind - we can use them to help us without having to thank him for it.'

'I aint sayin' nothin',' Gunn assured her, 'any lead is better than no lead. What did English have to say?'

'Well - mostly lots of stuffy boring stuff about destiny and Sahjahn and the Tro clon and so forth - I mostly skimmed that part.'

'Right - and the lead?' Fred prompted.

'Right - yes - he mentioned the name of the slayer-wannabe, evil, redhead that Holtz was tramping around with: Justine. And he wrote that she was working with Holtz because her twin sister, Julia, had been murdered by vampires.'

'That's a lead?' Gunn sounded unconvinced.

'So - I did some digging. Looked into obits for murdered women called Julia - and found one Julia Cooper - twin sister of Justine Cooper.'

'So we got a name?' He shrugged.

'Oh - we got way more than that, buster. I've been doing this for three years now. I can track a person on the net if I have to. Maybe not as well as … _some people_ \- but I can get the job done. Marissa said she saw them all drive away, right? And that I arrived just as that happened, right?'

'Right,' Fred agreed.

'So - I saw a van leave the scene that night. It was probably them - I was so close!' she took a deep breath and then ploughed on, refusing to lose herself to the recriminations that were bound to follow when she considered she had been mere feet away from Angel's enemies and not realised it. 'So - I rang the DMV...'

'At this hour?' Gunn sounded incredulous.

'I have a contact,' she shrugged, 'three years on the job, tracking down license plates - you gotta get chummy with someone on the inside. They chased down the license plate for a van owned by one Justine Cooper - here,' she held out a piece of paper. Gunn took it from her, and showed it to Fred. 'Nice goin',' he said, 'but now what?'

Cordelia sighed - wasn't it obvious? '_Now_ \- we give that license plate to Kate - and she gets all her cop buddies out looking for it. They tracked Wes down in Arizona - and he'd switched cars! The police can find Holtz with this info.'

'That might take a while,' Fred said, frowning at the paper.

'You got any better ideas?' Cordelia asked, 'look, I hate waiting on leads as much as you do - but detecting is all about patience. There is no quicker way to get Angel back than this, barring a miracle…'

She was interrupted by the phone beginning to ring.


	4. Deep Down: Part Four

_Part Four_

Angel lay on the table top; he had been covered with a blanket - and another one was folded beneath his head, acting like a pillow - but he was still so cold. '_Why is it like this?' he asked Lorne. The anagogic demon stood beside him, looking down at him, holding his ever present SeaBreeze. 'Well that's the age old question,' he answered, 'I'll fire you off a postcard if I ever noodle the answer.' _

'_Life should be beautiful and bright,' Angel said, 'But no matter how hard I try - everything I touch - turns to ashes.' _

Doyle watched on, as the prone vampire ranted and raved to himself. He was still delirious - the pig's blood did not seem to have done him much good, and the Irishman was worried that they were too late to save his higher brain functions. They were now looking at an eternity of having a damaged vampire on their hands - like in the alternate timeline Skip had sent him to, on his birthday. But in this case, the damage was wrought by starvation - and not the visions. Doyle frowned deeper and deliberately turned his mind away from the visions - or his lack thereof.

His dark thoughts were interrupted by Wesley coming back down the stairs, 'how is he doing?' the watcher asked.

'_How do you think?' Angel heard Lorne reply._

'He's not lookin' so hot,' Doyle replied, 'he keeps on talking - nonsense - I think he's still delirious.'

'I have to stop him - have to find him,' Angel gasped. Wesley took a step closer to him, 'Angel?' he said - his voice loud and clear, hoping to cut through the vampire's delirium.

'I have to do it…'

The two men glanced at each other, in concern, and then looked back at Angel. He was trying to rise up off the table, but he was so weak he was not having much luck. 'Shh, you have to rest now,' Wesley told him, pressing down on his shoulder to keep him in place.

'_Hush little baby don't say a word,' Lorne sang, 'mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing…' _

_Angel looked up at the man holding him down on the table, his vision was blurry - but he could just make him out: Holtz. 'I should have killed you,' he said to the vampire hunter. _

'Angel, bud…' Doyle began to say, but Wesley just shook his head - unperturbed by the vampire's death threat. 'He's been down there too long,' he said, 'pig's blood isn't enough - he needs more substantial nourishment.' he pulled out a switchblade - and looked across at Doyle.

The half demon sighed, and began to roll up his sleeve. 'It's bad enough I had to go swimmin' to find him - now I gotta bleed from a vein for him, as well?'

But Wesley only chuckled, grimly, 'not this time, Doyle. He doesn't need demon blood - he needs pure, unadulterated human.'

'Oh,' Doyle's expression was a complicated mixture of relief - and being put out that he wasn't human enough to feed a vampire. He rolled his sleeve back down again, and Wesley cut himself with the knife. He sliced against the inner side of his forearm and then held the cut to Angel's lips.

Angel's hands came up and gripped Wesley's arms - and he drank, thirstily.

* * *

Lilah stood alone in the boardroom, behind the chair at the head of the table. She ran her hands along the leather of the chair's headrest - but when the door opened, she quickly moved away, and took a seat more towards the centre of the table.

All the other attorneys filed in and took their seats. Gavin sat near the top of the table - and Linwood took the chair right at the head. 'Alright, we've got a lot of ground to cover,' their boss said, 'so let's get right to it. But first, let's talk about Lilah.' Everyone turned to look at her. Gavin smirked. She stared back at them all. 'Everyone had a chance to view her file?' Linwood asked. There were nods all round. 'Good - recommendations?'

'I think her record speaks for itself,' Gavin said. The real estate weasel was practically squirming with delight.

'Volumes,' Linwood agreed with him. 'Your failures at Wolfram and Hart outstrip your successes by an uncomfortable margin. Perhaps you would fair better at one of the less central offices?'

'A third world dimension maybe,' Gavin supplied.

'I'm sorry,' Lilah said - her voice quiet, yet it didn't really sound like an apology. 'What was that?' Linwood asked her.

'I'm sorry,' she said again - and then stood up, and looked around at everyone - before settling her eyes directly on Linwood. 'I've made mistakes,' she said, 'but _fear_ was never one of them.'

'Is there something you would like to share?' Her boss aimed to sound condescending - but she wasn't going to be talked down to. 'Why haven't we been out looking for the vampire's child?' she asked, 'captured and contained him? You can rest assured Angel's people are looking for him.'

'We're assessing the situation,' Linwood told her.

'In the same way we're assessing Angel's situation?' she sneered, 'then why aren't we trying to pinpoint his location?'

'Lilah this is _my_ corner of the sky.' He was sounding angry now. '_I_ decide when the sun rises and when it sets. Lack of long-term vision has always been one of your shortcomings.'

She picked up a palm pilot and stylus from the table - and then looked back at the older attorney. 'And lack of courage has always been one of yours,' she replied. 'You're afraid of Angel and his son. And that's the reason for your daring strategy of 'wait and see' isn't it? You're afraid, and fear breeds weakness.'

Linwood put a mocking hand to his heart, 'Oh, I'm hurt,' he said, 'is that really what you think of me?'

She stood a little taller. 'Yes,' she told him, 'and Mr. Suvarta agrees with me.'

'_You spoke to a Senior Partner?'_ The mocking tone was gone now - and was replaced by one of outrage - and fear.

'He was really very helpful,' she smiled, 'had some great hints on office furniture.'

'This is outrageous!' His face was actually beginning to turn purple with rage, 'are you actually telling me you went over my head?'

Lilah touched her stylus to the screen of her palm pilot. There was an electronic beep - and then a blade whipped out from the backrest of Linwood's chair. It sliced quickly and neatly right through his flesh, and then hit the leather. 'Just under it, actually,' Lilah smiled.

There was a still moment, whilst Linwood's head held in place - his pop eyed expression of shock frozen in death - and then his head fell from his shoulders and rolled down the table, with a thump. All the other attorneys flinched. Lilah smiled. 'Mr. Suvarta didn't think Linwood's sky was sunny enough,' she told them. 'You're all reporting to me now.' She sat down, 'get out.'

They jumped to their feet and silently began to file from the room. 'Oh - Gavin?' she said. Gavin froze - and turned back to look at her, fear plainly etched on his face. That made her feel all warm inside. She pointed her stylus at the decapitated head, 'please remove that,' she said to him.

* * *

The front doors to the hotel opened, and Wesley and Doyle came in - supporting Angel between them. 'I believe you're looking for this?' Wesley said to the team. There was a moment of silence - and then Fred, Gunn and Cordy all rushed towards their boss.

'Careful,' the watcher warned them, holding up the three man procession to keep back from the team, 'he is still very weak, he isn't yet up to a touching reunion.'

'Let's just get him to the sofa,' Doyle suggested. He and Wesley began to drag the vampire in that direction, but Cordelia stood her ground. 'I'll take him,' she said, 'get out of my way.'

There was a moment, as Cordy and Doyle stared into each other eyes. So much - and so little - passed between them, and Doyle found he was holding his breath. Then, he shrugged - and broke the spell. 'Fine.' He wriggled out from under Angel's arm and Cordelia took his place. She led Angel and Wesley down the steps and towards the sofa, whilst the Irishman - no longer needed - hovered, awkwardly, by the door.

'Oh my God,' Fred breathed - as she stared at the shambling wreck that was Angel, taking in the pallor of his face, and the deep cracks that dehydration had carved into his skin. His eyes were blank, and he was still mumbling incoherently. When she had worried about what being trapped under the ocean would be like for a vampire, she had not thought about the physical changes it would bring. Clearly, it had been harder on him than she had feared.

'Is he gonna be OK?' Gunn asked, he too was shocked by Angel's appearance - shocked at how weak he seemed.

'In time, maybe,' Wesley replied, as he and Cordy deposited Angel on the round couch. Angel leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, groaning.

'He'll be fine,' Cordelia assured everyone, her voice brittle - but her eyes were shining with tears. Doyle felt a lurch in his stomach, he remembered when that tight voice and those tears were brought about by his own injuries - when it had been him she worried for, because it was him she loved. The brisk voice hid her deep concern - whilst her unshed tears belied it. She loved Angel now - he could see it in the way she treated the vampire the way she had once treated him. He looked down at his shoes, and tried to blink back his own tears of grief.

Fred and Gunn were still staring in horror. 'Oh God,' Fred repeated.

'It's OK,' her boyfriend tried to reassure her.

'But look at him!'

'It's gonna be OK.' Cordy and Wesley had both said it would be - so it had to be.

'Guy's shut up!' Cordelia admonished, she sat beside Angel and stroked his brow, looking into his eyes. Then she turned back to Wesley, 'How did you find him?'

'I tracked down Holtz and Justine - Justine told me roughly the coordinates of where they dumped him at sea. I've been out searching every night, since.'

'But how did you get him?'

Wesley glanced across at Doyle, 'Doyle volunteered to go down - he was the one that found him and attached the ship's hoist to the casket Angel was kept in.' He decided to keep Justine's role as slave girl out of the story. Cordelia met Doyle's eyes again. 'Thank you,' she whispered. He could think of nothing to say to that, so he lowered his gaze and looked at his shoes again. 'We should go,' he mumbled to Wesley, 'they don't need us, now.'

'Wait!' Cordelia stopped them from leaving, 'what about Holtz and Justine?'

'Holtz is dead,' Wesley told her, 'and Justine is no longer a threat.'

'And Connor?'

'Missing.' That one word hurt his heart more than he could bear.

'We need to find him,' Cordelia murmured, looking back at Angel.

'We need to help Angel, first,' Gunn told her. 'What do we do?'

'You need to feed him,' Wesley said, 'and I'm afraid Pig's blood won't cut it. We fed him on the boat, but he needs more - and I'm all out - come on, Doyle.' The two men turned to leave, Cordelia watched them go. 'I know it's been a long night,' the Irishman was saying, as they walked out of the door, 'but we still gotta take care of the giant bird demon I saw in my vision.'

The door swung shut behind them. Angel groaned. 'Gunn!' Cordelia's voice was sharp and commanding, 'go fetch me a sharp knife.' The street fighter went to the weapons cabinet and selected a dagger, whilst Cordelia stroked Angel's hair soothingly. 'It's OK, sweetie,' she murmured, 'we're gonna make you all better.'

'Here you go,' Gunn handed her the dagger, and she took it from him - placing the blade against the skin of her forearm. Unknowingly mirroring Wesley, she sliced into her arm and then held the cut to Angel's lips. 'You need to drink,' she said to him, 'here.' Then she turned to the others, 'he's freezing - fetch more blankets.' The young couple ran off to find blankets to cover him with, and Cordelia and Angel were left alone.

She pressed her bleeding arm right up to his mouth, and at first he sucked at her wound, hungrily. He drank and drank, and his face morphed into his vampiric features - he bit down harder, and Cordy cried out.

The sound of her pain brought Angel to his senses, the way nothing else had. The demon melted from his face, and he threw her arm away from himself in horror. It was like his hallucination - all over again, but the warmth in his belly told him this time it was real. 'Cordy! No!'

But she pressed her arm back at him. 'You need to drink some more,' she told him, 'you have to.'

'I can't.'

'You must, please - drink.' She held her arm to his lips again, and he was too weak to fight her. He felt the rich warmth of her blood flow into his mouth - more delicious than anything he ever remembered tasting. Cordelia closed her eyes, as she felt her head go light and dizzy.

'Cordelia - stop.' Fred's voice cut through the room. She had returned with the blankets. But Cordelia kept her arm in place, 'he needs … he needs … more…' her voice was slurring. 'Charles!' Fred called for her boyfriend - and Gunn appeared. In an instant, he was at Cordy's side - and lifted her away from the vampire. 'Damn girl, you can't give him three months worth of blood all by yourself. You crazy?'

Angel fell back against the round sofa - and groaned - missing the nourishment that Cordelia had given him, as soon as it was lost. Gunn carried Cordy across to the sofa outside the office, and lay her down there. Her eyes were shut. 'Fred - see to her,' he told his girlfriend, 'patch her up and keep her still… damn!' He went back to Angel, still shaking his head, and began to wrap the vampire in the blankets he and Fred had brought down.

'How're you doing, man?' he asked, as he tucked the blankets around his boss, 'you feeling better?'

'I'm sorry,' Angel moaned. 'Tell Cordy I didn't want … didn't meant to...'

'It's OK, man,' Gunn glanced back across at where the two women were, Fred working away at fixing up Cordelia. 'Cordy does what she wants to, you know that, aint no getting through to her.' He straightened up, 'now I'm gonna ring around, see if I can find a butcher's shop that delivers.'

* * *

'Explain again what you saw,' Wesley said. They were back at his apartment. Justine had disappeared - her neck shackle still dangled, on its chain, from the ceiling, and the bars of her cage were pushed back. Doyle kept staring at the closet - he couldn't keep his eyes from it - couldn't stop feeling sick at the thought of her imprisoned in there, all these months.

'Umm…' he shook his head and tried to snap out of his horrified reverie. 'What?'

'Your vision of the demon - what did you see.'

'Oh - right.' One of the other things he was worrying about, one of the other secrets he was keeping. 'I was out - patrolling - when it hit me. I saw this big scaly thing, with a beak, snacking on a woman - just off Skid Row. So I went there - saved her - shot the demon. But then it flew away. It's still out there … and it eats people.'

'Hmmm,' Wesley got up and went to consult his books. Doyle stared at the empty cage again. 'Is this what you saw?' the watcher had arrived back, holding a book open to show an illustration; snapping Doyle out of his thoughts, once more. The Irishman tore his eyes away from the hanging shackle and looked at the picture. 'Uh - yeah - that's it - what is it?'

'Vae daemonium avem,' Wesley told him, 'European in origin - maybe check the database to find out where such a creature might live in Los Angeles.'

Doyle nodded and headed over to Wesley's laptop. He began to type into the search bar.

'We did good work tonight,' Wesley said, after a long moment. 'Thank you - for being there, for going down to find Angel.'

'It's … it's nothing,' he mumbled in reply, 'don't mention it.'

'We can't put right what we did,' the watcher continued, 'can't make the people we love forgive us - get back what we lost.' Doyle thought of Cordelia - and the way she had looked at Angel, and the way she had looked at himself. He hung his head. 'No,' he agreed.

'But you are right when you say we can still atone - make amends to the universe, if not to our family.'

'Right.'

'And once we've finished killing this bird demon - we will get straight onto hunting down Connor. Have you found anything?'

The database beeped - and the information came up. 'There's a nest in Echo Park,' Doyle told him. Wesley nodded, 'alright - let's get to work.'

* * *

Cordelia woke up on the sofa, her head felt light and her arm was sore. She remembered. 'Angel!' she tried to sit up, but the dizziness and nausea forced her back down again. He was home, he was safe, he would be alright. And it was Wesley and Doyle who had brought him back - not her. For all her furious detective work, over the summer - it was the two betrayers - the snakes in the grass - who had found him, in the end.

She groaned and brought her hand up to her swimming head. _Doyle_. He had swum down to the bottom of the ocean - and hauled Angel out. She thought back to her harsh words about him, earlier that evening - that, if he had any inkling where the vampire was, he would be rushing to tell them; trying to weasel his way back inside the family. But he hadn't. He had merely got on with the job; found Angel; brought him back - and left. Not asked for thanks. Not asked for forgiveness.

And then he and Wesley had gone to fight some monster from a vision. He was still fighting the good fight. Separately - without looking for approval from her. She had told him to get lost - and he had done. He had moved on. _Good_, she thought to herself. That was good. She didn't need him pining after her for the rest of their lives, didn't want him …

He had brought back Angel - and left. And now they could all get on with their lives. Her and Angel. And Doyle - by himself. That was all that mattered. That was what was for the best. She groaned again.

'Cordy, you awake?' She heard Fred speak to her from somewhere above. She groaned in response. 'I got you some water and an iron tablet,' Fred said to her, 'you should take it - to try and restore…'

Cordelia struggled to an upright position - but again she had to bring her head up to her hand, as a wave of nausea overtook her. Once she was stable, again, she held out her hand - and took the water and tablet. 'How is he?' she asked.

'Charles got him up to a room on the next floor,' Fred told her, 'he couldn't make it up to Angel's own room - we never fixed the elevator after Connor was born. The local butcher delivered some pig's blood - we fed him - he seems to be doing better.'

'Pig's blood isn't good enough,' Cordelia said, 'he needs…'

'He took a whole load of yours, Cordy,' Fred told her, 'and he fed off Wesley already. He's stronger. Animal blood will do him for now.'

'I need to go to him,' she swung her legs down to the floor - and her whole world tilted on its axis, she reeled. 'Help me?' she asked. Fred sighed, and helped her up, and then supported her up the stairs.

* * *

Angel was lying on the bed in Cordelia's old room. As she went in and sat down beside him, she tried not to think about how close they were to Doyle's room - and all the memories that room held for her. 'Hey,' she said, gripping his hand.

'Cordelia,' his voice was soft - but his eyes were focused, now. 'You shouldn't have fed me.'

'How could I not…' there was a pause, 'do you feel stronger?'

'A little.'

'Then it was the right thing to do.' She gripped his hand, and then felt the dam break inside of her - and she began to cry. 'Angel - I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't find you. We were trying - all summer we followed one lead after another. But we were still so far away - and it was Wes that found you. If he hadn't … who knows how much longer…' she rested her head on his chest, and wept.

'Shh shh,' he stroked her hair. 'It doesn't matter - I'm back - that's all that counts. And I'll be fine.' He held her close. Her warmth, her weight - it was like a balm to his wounded soul.

'But all you've been through - trapped down there - Angel…'

'You know it wasn't so bad,' he told her, still gripping her tightly, 'I saw some fish, went mad with hunger, hallucinated a whole bunch. But it gave me time to think - see things from a different perspective.' He frowned, 'kind of a M.C. Escher perspective - but still…'

Cordelia raised her head from his chest to look at him; he felt the cold, immediately. 'Not that bad?' she asked, 'how can you say that?'

'One summer, I spent one hundred years in a hell dimension - sent there by my own girlfriend,' he pointed out, 'three months under the sea doesn't really compare.'

Cordelia lay her head back down, and he smiled with relief. 'That's you,' she gave a watery chuckle, 'unflappable old Joe stoic.'

'You think I'm old?'

'You had a bicentennial!'

'Yeah - but - I'm young at heart, right? And that's what counts?'

She flung her arm around him and hugged him fiercely. 'Oh God, Angel I missed you so much!'

'Likewise,' he said, 'you know - that's what I thought about down there,' he told her. 'You, me - the world.'

She raised her head, slightly - to look at him again. 'What about it?'

He sighed, 'nothing in this world is the way it's supposed to be,' he explained, 'it's harsh and cruel … but then that's why there's people like us - champions. It doesn't matter where we've come from, what we've done, or suffered - or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world is what it should be - to show it what it can be. My best friends betrayed me, and it hurt me more than I could have thought possible. And then they found me - and restored me to you. Up is down, black is white. The earth keeps turning - and the only thing that seems to make any sense to me … is us.'

They lay together, holding each other - for a long time. 'Cordelia?' Angel whispered into the dark, just as she was falling asleep. 'We need to find Connor.'

* * *

In the mountains of Utah, Sister Assumpta did her rounds - checking on the sleeping children. She stopped off in the nursery - where the children under three slept. It was quiet in there - the orphaned and abandoned babies were all asleep, though she knew many would wake in the night - and cry out for a mother who would never come.

She stopped at the last crib in the room, their newest addition, and the youngest child in the home. A baby boy - less than a year old - abandoned on a church doorstep two months ago. No one knew where he had come from, or even what his name was. But he was a bonny boy - big and healthy and happy. He kicked his legs in his sleep - and she tweaked his toes, smiling down. 'Night night, little angel,' she said to him, 'God bless and keep you - and may he bless and keep your parents too - wherever they may be.'

* * *

**A/N next episode is 'Ground State' **


	5. Ground State: Part One

**Ground State**

_Part One_

_The Mercedes drove through the winding roads of the rural, Wisconsin countryside. The lane was narrow, and there were several close calls where they nearly hit up against a tree, or got scratched by the hedgerow. But, eventually, they passed the sign they were looking for: Thorpe's academy. The car pulled to a halt, and a well heeled young man and woman got out of the front seats. A little girl climbed out of the back._

_The girl wore a padded, red snowsuit - although it was only an Autumn's day. She had on thick, red mittens as well - every inch of her skin - barring her face - was covered. Even her head was covered by the hood of her jacket. She was uncomfortably warm. She stood in between her parents and watched, as a lady came out of the gracious, white building and headed towards them._

_The lady smiled, once she reached them. 'Mr. and Mrs Raiden,' she greeted the couple, 'welcome to the academy. I'm Lydia Thorpe.' _

'_We can't thank you enough,' Mrs. Raiden said to her, 'after all we've been through,' - the strain showed on her young face. But now she was hopeful that there was someone who could help them. Or, at least, someone who would take their problem off their hands. Bear the burden, themselves._

'_Honestly, I should be thanking you,' Ms. Thorpe replied, 'your gift to the school was quite generous. We've already invested a portion of it into the accommodations needed for Gwen's … special needs.' She glanced down at the bundled up little girl. Gwen stared back up at her. _

'_When shall we come back?' Mr. Raiden asked._

'_Class ends June 3rd,' Ms. Thorpe told him - she did not assume that the young couple would want to see their daughter before then. They were sending her away for a reason, after all. Mr. and Mrs. Raiden nodded and, after thanking the head teacher once more and telling Gwen to be a good girl; that they loved her and would see her in June, they got back into their car and drove away. _

_Gwen watched them go - still saying nothing. Ms. Thorpe smiled down at her - but kept her distance. 'I'm going to take you up to class now,' she told the little girl, 'you must stay away from the other children, of course, but I'm confident that you'll learn my other rules very quickly.' She turned and began to walk back up to the building. Gwen followed on, jogging to keep up with the teacher's longer legs. She reached up for Ms. Thorpe's hand - seeking the comfort of hand holding, now she was abandoned in a strange place among strange people. But the teacher slapped out at her mittened hand, batting it away without making contact. 'No, Gwen!' she admonished. Gwen let her hand drop - and followed the woman into the school._

_..._

_At recess, Gwen sat alone, under a tree - whilst all the other children played out in the yard. She had a yoghurt to eat, but it was hard to manipulate the spoon in her big, puffy mittens - so, after a few failed attempts, she slid the glove off her hand. _

_Across the yard, a little boy drove his hot wheels car through the air. He spotted Gwen sat all alone at the far side of the play area - and made a beeline for her, making the car's engine noises with his mouth. He came up beside her and stopped. 'Are you a freak?' he asked her. Gwen shrugged, inside her snowsuit, 'I don't know.'_

_He scrutinised her for a while, 'I guess you don't look like a freak,' he decided after a while. She smiled, 'thanks.' He held his car out to her, just as Ms. Thorpe rang the bell to end recess. 'You can hold onto this, if you like,' he told Gwen. She got to her feet and reached out for the car with her bare hand. _

_Ms. Thorpe turned and saw what was happening - realised the danger - just as she was too late to do anything about it. 'Gwen NO!' she yelled - as loudly as she could - and began to run the length of the yard. But Gwen had reached out to take the hot wheels ...there was a flash, and the boy was knocked off his feet. He flew through the air and landed heavily on the ground. The car lay on the floor between Gwen and the boy, a melted mess. Gwen shrank back in fear, as Ms. Thorpe and the other children reached the tree and looked on what she had done._

* * *

'So, what do we know?' Angel asked his team. The four of them were sat in the lobby of the Hyperion, coffees in hand, talking about their one and only concern in the world right now - where was Connor.

Cordelia sighed, 'we don't know much,' she admitted. 'We spent all summer hunting you down - it took us until the night you were found… ' she trailed off as she remembered Doyle bringing Angel back in. She shook her head and resumed her sentence. '...to even find out what had happened to you. I found this…' she showed him the obit for Julia Cooper and the license plate she had tracked down for Justine, 'and we were gonna get Kate to start hunting the van - when Wes called and said they were bringing you in.'

'Trouble is,' Gunn took up the story, 'now it turns out Wes had already found Justine and Holtz - but not Connor - and we're back to square one. That license plate won't get us squat now.'

'We know, from Wesley, that they took Connor to Utah,' Fred offered, 'so realistically - that's the place for us to start.'

'Utah?' Angel said blankly, 'the whole of Utah? I've been to Utah and…' he shook his head, 'it's pretty big.'

'Oh - well - you know the old saying, 'easy as finding one baby in all of Utah',' Cordy smiled, and put her hand over the vampire's. 'We'll find him, Angel - it's only a matter of time. We just need to … look up… reports ... on babies being taken into care in the past couple of months. There can't be that many 10 month old boys in the care system of Utah - we can, you know - just keep plugging until we find the right one.'

Angel smiled back at her, appreciating her optimism. As always, she was his rock - the shoulder he leaned on. He knew, as long as Cordy was there for him, that everything would be OK in the end.

'Is that information just gonna be lying around on the net?' Gunn asked, 'for anyone to look into - sounds like it might be confidential to me.'

'We'll just have to hack into their system,' Angel said, shrugging his shoulders. Then he noticed everyone look down, at his words, 'what?' he asked them.

'Doyle was our hacker,' Fred reminded him, glancing at Cordelia - and keeping her voice low. Cordelia looked away. 'It's gonna be a lot harder without him.'

'Can't you do it?' he asked the physicist. She looked uncomfortable. 'I can try,' she said, 'but I was never really as good at that stuff as he was. I'm more theoretical physicist than computer nerd.'

'Well - give it a go, and - if you can't - Cordy, ring Willow. She's talked us through hacking harder sites than the social services before.'

'OK, sweetie,' she squeezed his hand, 'I can call Willow.'

'Seems to me,' Gunn said, clearing his throat, 'that we're only just starting out with this information.' Everyone looked at him. 'So?' Angel asked.

'Listen, I'm just thinking … you reckon maybe Wes is ahead of us already on this? He's known about Utah since back in July. He'll even know the right area … Justine can't have got far between fleeing the house and getting caught. Puts Connor in a pretty small radius, if you ask me. Maybe … maybe we should think about speaking to Wes, again?'

* * *

'Get down!' Wesley yelled. Doyle ducked, as the massive demon swung it's fist right at his head. They were inside a warehouse - and the noise of the machines and the noise of the roaring demon reverberated around the walls, echoing inside their heads. It was dark; they were hot; they were sweaty and dirty and tired. They had been fighting this thing for hours.

Doyle hit the floor - and his axe slipped from his hand and skidded along the ground. It came to a rest at Angel's feet. He looked down at it and then picked it up. 'Need a hand?' he asked his two former associates. But Wesley swung his own blade - and succeeded in severing the demon's neck. 'No need,' he replied. He bent down beside the now headless demon and pulled a key out from under it. 'So - Mr. O'Leary is being held in a motel,' he said to Doyle, showing him the fob. 'You know - I'm surprised you didn't get a vision telling us that.'

The Irishman swallowed, hard. 'Mrs. O'leary was a walk in client,' he said, shrugging - feigning nonchalance - 'I don't tend to get visions for the walk ins.'

'Well,' Wes threw the key at Doyle, 'go free him, ring his wife and then close the file.' The half demon nodded, and then nodded a goodbye to Angel, before turning to leave. 'Hey, Doyle,' Angel called after him, 'I never got a chance to say before - thanks - for diving down and finding me. That can't have been fun. I appreciate it.' Doyle nodded again - but said nothing in reply. Then he left, leaving Wesley and Angel alone.

'I need to say thanks to you, too,' the vampire said to him. 'I know it was Doyle that did the swimming part - but you were the brains of the operation. Night after night - out on the boat, a lot of water. No map. I appreciate it.'

Wesley said nothing in reply, and began to walk away through the warehouse. Angel followed after him. 'Look - Wes - while I was down there, it gave me a lot of time to think. About everything. The way things went. The way things could've gone - and I just want to say - as far as I'm concerned, we're good again.'

Again Wesley said nothing. Instead, he picked up a chrome briefcase - opened it - and took out a file, which he handed to the vampire. Angel looked at it in confusion. 'What's this?'

'What you came for,' Wesley replied, 'everything I've been able to find out about Connor's whereabouts.'

Angel flipped through the manilla folder, looking at the pages. There were maps and lists of children's homes - and reports of babies recently taken into care. 'This is a lot,' Angel said, sounding impressed. 'Thanks.'

'I still need to narrow it down, before it's worth going into Utah. Unless…'

'Unless what?'

Wesley took the folder back and flipped to the last sheet of paper, showing it to Angel. 'Dinza,' he said.

'What's a Dinza?' Angel looked at the illustration. It was of a winged creature, their face covered by a veil.

'A possible shortcut,' Wesley told him, 'one of the Eleusian mysteries. She is a dark demi-goddess of the lost. Only the dead can enter her presence. And those that do, she often traps for eternity.' He packed up all his gear, as he spoke.

'Sounds cheery,' Angel joked - still looking at the engraving.

'Doyle was able to track down her lair - his contacts … it was difficult and dangerous. And he was none too happy about handing the information over - if you use this, Angel - you put yourself in grave danger. I cannot stress that enough. Neither he nor I were able to enter her presence - obviously.'

'But this Dinza can tell me where Connor is?' The vampire was barely heeding the warning of danger. He was in danger all the time. But this winged broad found lost things - that was all that mattered.

'Not even close,' Wesley said, shutting him down, 'the most she can tell you is where to look. But remember - Dinza is not remotely trustworthy.' He closed his briefcase, and walked away.

'What should I do then?' Angel called after him, 'send her a gift? Sacrifice?... Unholy fruit basket?'

* * *

Angel climbed down the ladder and landed in the sewer pipe, water lapped over his shoes, rising up to his ankles. He waded through - ignoring the way it reminded him of being trapped in the casket. At the end of the tunnel was a doorway, the entrance to the Dinza's lair, he walked through it - into blackness. 'Knock knock,' he called out. 'Door was open.'

Behind him, the door magically sealed itself shut - trapping him inside. He turned to look at it, 'or it was,' he said. Then he felt a long, bony finger tap him on the back of his neck. He jumped round; hearing a flutter of wings, as he did, but when he looked - there was nothing to see. 'Are you lost?' a voice asked, from out of the darkness.

Again, he felt the cold touch on his bare neck - and whipped round to stare in the other direction. 'Keep this up and you'll make me seasick,' he said.

'I doubt it,' the Dinza replied, he still couldn't see her. 'I think it would have happened before now.' He heard the flutter of wings - and when he looked up, he finally saw a figure, crouching in the gloom. The Dinza was resting on a beam above his head - crouched - she had large, leathery wings and a veil of cobwebs covered her face. 'Tell me,' the Dinza said, 'do you miss the sound of the waves?'

'You know who I am?'

'I know you were lost - I know all lost things.'

'Really? City of Atlantis? Holy grail? Jimmy Hoffa?'

The demi-goddess was obviously unimpressed with his wisecracks, because she fluttered down from her beam and wrapped her long hands around his throat once more. He jumped - and she flew away, and came to rest on another beam. 'Lost boy,' she said.

'So you know why I'm here?' he twisted around, searching - until he located her again. She stared down at him. 'He is far away from you, champion.' she cocked her head to one side, 'are you sure he even needs you?'

'I'm his father,' Angel replied, 'and I need him.'

There was a whispering sound, coming from all corners of the lair. It grew momentarily louder, and died away again. 'They think that you should join them,' the Dinza said, translating the wordless sussaration, 'that I should never let you out.' She chuckled, 'but, then, who listens to the dead? The Axis of Pythia lies close by,' she told him - changing the subject, 'what you seek can only be found inside the Axis.'

'The Axis?'

'An ancient power,' she stood up, on the beam, and unfurled her wings to their full extent - 'it bridges all dimensions. Time - space - it is nothing to the Axis of Pythia. Find the Axis - and find your lost one.'

He stared up at her, 'why should I trust you?' She was behind him in an instant, her fingers around his throat once more. 'Because I would love to keep you here forever,' she hissed, 'but you have so much more to lose.'

* * *

Elliot sat at a table in his uptown bar of choice - his eyes resting on the door. He shook his head, as the woman walked through it. She was dressed all in red leather: pants and a crop top, which showed off her toned midriff. Her hair was loose and wavy, and her lipstick was bright red to match the leather. Her boots were black, though - and so were the long satin gloves she wore on each hand. As she walked through the bar, every male head turned to watch her pass. She sat down at Elliot's table. 'I said discreet,' he said to her. 'You're late.'

'You're screwing me,' she replied, 'the Axis of Pythia is worth 33 million - you said it was worth 6.'

'The Axis of Pythia is a mystical object,' he told her, 'it has no inherent monetary value.'

She was uninterested in his lies, 'blah blah polysyllabic blah,' she said to him - and then turned to the waiter - ordering a drink, 'and can it have one of those swizzly things?' she asked him. She turned back to Elliot, 'I love those… you were saying?'

'My appraiser priced the Axis at exactly…'

'Eighteen percent of its true market value. And as I work on commission - that's like getting me for eighty percent off.' Her drink arrived, but she ignored it - and reached across for Elliot's hand instead. He recoiled, shuddering. 'The street value is irrelevant. I only want the Axis for my own private collection.'

She picked up a packet from the table and flipped through, 'this my stuff?' she asked. it had all the logistical information she needed: the auction house perimeter, the security system, vent work and vaults.

'Make the delivery to a private high rise, downtown,' Elliot said to her, 'and then we'll transfer the balance of your fee.'

She got to her feet, 'which we both know is gonna have a lot more zeros on the end of it, right?'

He smiled, patronisingly. 'You know, Gwen, you came very highly recommended for your … talents. But I have to admit, I was expecting someone a bit more professional.'

'I am a professional,' she told him, 'and we professionals don't like taking the bone.' She opened her hand, which was now bare, and showed him the object she had stolen from him without his realising.

He reached out for it, 'Gwen, that is a twelve thousand dollar watch.'

She closed her hand around it, and there was a crackle of electricity. Then she threw the watch back onto the table. It was melted and misshapen. 'And now it's surrealism,' she told him. She picked up the swizel stick from her drink, and sucked on it, 'thanks for the drink,' she said - and walked out.


	6. Ground State: Part Two

_Part Two_

Connor sat on the play mat, with the other infants in the orphanage - and they all gazed up at the screen, where the 'Smile Time' puppets were singing a song about the awesomeness of long division. '_Division is all about sharing, division is all about caring - when you share your candy with your chum - division is how we make sure we all get some - oh ten shared two is five and twelve shared two is six…' _the puppets sang.

The baby gurgled in delight and smashed his little fist down on the ground to the music. 'Do you like that, little angel?' Sister Assumpta asked him, 'do you like the singing doggy?' He gurgled again. The nun looked at the screen - watching the puppets prance. She shuddered and crossed herself. 'I don't know - something about them just gives me the willies.'

* * *

Cordy and Fred stood by the case board and explained their findings to Gunn and Angel. The two men sat across from them, watching them intently. 'This is the Axis of Pythia,' Cordelia said - indicating a sketch she had made from out of one of the books. 'It's a metal arch set in a marble base - stands about two feet high, and weighs about eighteen pounds - and would make a pretty nifty ornament for a mantelpiece or bookshelf.'

Fred smiled at her, briefly, before taking up the story. 'Unlike something you might buy at Pottery Barn, however, the Axis of Pythia was forged from the tripod of the Delphic oracle. It's a one of a kind and has some pretty unique powers - including being able to locate souls and entities across time, space and dimensions.'

'I've bought things from Pottery Barn that have been pretty powerful,' Angel said, 'you know - makes a bold statement - or melts eyeballs. That kind of thing.'

Cordelia blew a raspberry at him. 'This is some pretty serious mojo we're looking for,' she said, 'and why is it me and Fred that are doing all the work, anyway?'

'You're better at this stuff than us,' Angel replied.

'You got that right.' But she didn't sound impressed.

Gunn raised a hand, 'so where is the Axis thing being kept, and how do we get it?' Cordelia used the tip of her pen to tap a photograph she had pulled off the web. It was the front of a building and had the word 'Chandler's' written above the doorway in gold letters.

'It's currently being housed in the vault at Chandler's auction house,' Fred told the men, 'it's an establishment firmly rooted in the black market. Black market means money, money means security.'

'But not to worry,' Angel got to his feet and picked up some rolled up blueprints, ''cause I beat the building plans out of a snitch who thought I was dead.' But Fred was ready to pour cold water on his enthusiasm. The building plans were only half of it. Just because they knew where the Axis was located didn't mean they would actually be able to get to it.

'Yep,' Cordelia said, she stuck up another sheet on their case board, 'this is just what we reckon is most likely there - pretty heavy duty stuff.'

'Surveillance cameras, electric gates,' Gunn read. Angel finished off the list for him, 'laser sensors, hand print recognition.'

'Now - there's a chance I know enough about wiring … from someone who shall remain nameless - let's just call him_ festering Boyle_ \- that I can short out some of this stuff, if Fred can read the electric schematics and let me know what's what,' Cordelia told them.

'But then we run into the armed guards,' the other woman finished up. Gunn raised his hand again, 'sounds like a job for me … but if this thing is in an auction house, why don't we just ebay it? How much does it cost?'

'33 million,' the rest of them chorused in unison. Gunn began to choke on his drink, 'I think my lungs…' he coughed again, 'have coffee…'

'So we're still working on a plan,' Cordelia said brightly.

'But it involves getting caught and going to prison,' Fred continued.

'Right - but with any luck, Fred and I can be cellmates and you two guys can be bunkies in the big house.'

'Nobody's going to jail,' Angel told them, 'I told you - a heist like this, I've done it a million times.' Cordy quirked an eyebrow at him. 'OK - twice,' he admitted, 'but I'm good at it, I swear.'

'You better not be counting that time we stole that crazy making death shroud that nearly killed us,' Gunn said to him. Angel looked put out. 'The point is - I know we can work this.'

The two women looked at each other, and then began to gather up the blueprints. 'OK,' Fred said, 'we'll get working on a plan. If I can locate the grid then me and Cordy should be able to short it all out - the rest will be up to you.'

'Um…' Angel began to speak but then trailed off. The women halted and looked at him, 'what?' Cordelia asked.

'I'm just wondering,' the vampire said, 'and don't get mad…'

'Boy - am I ever gonna hate this suggestion,' Cordelia muttered.

'It's just … I know you can hotwire a car, Cordy - and that's great. But a big job like this … maybe we need to bring in someone … more qualified.'

'Like who?'

'Like … the person who taught you how to hotwire a car in the first place? I think he goes by the name 'festering Boyle' right now. '

Cordelia stared at him and he shifted uncomfortably. 'I was wrong,' she said. 'I don't hate that plan - I _revile_ it.'

'Cordelia … this is how we're gonna find Connor,' Angel said softly, 'it's too important not to use the best.' She stared at him for a moment longer, and then gathered up the last of the schematics. 'Fine,' she said, 'but I'm not talking to him.'

* * *

Gwen checked her equipment; rappelling hooks, flashlight, and her pouch of lock picks. She put everything into her bag and then slung the bag across her body. She was dressed all in black now, her hair tied back into a tight french plait, so it wouldn't get in the way. But, before she left, there was time for just one final touch - something to make sure she still felt like herself. Gazing into the black screen on her computer console, using it as a mirror, she applied a thick layer of bright, scarlet lipstick. Then she blew a kiss at her reflection, and smiled to herself.

* * *

Angel arrived at the motel, just as Doyle was leaving his room. The Irishman pulled up short, when he saw him, and glanced around warily - not sure if the vampire's presence constituted a threat to his own safety. 'Hey, man,' he said - his voice cautious.

'Hey, Doyle - How're you doing?'

'Uh… Good?' his voice was still uncertain.

'Off out?'

'To Wesley's - we have to patrol.'

'Did you have a vision?' Angel asked him. Doyle hesitated, for a moment, and then shook his head. 'Not tonight - just a regular sweep of dangerous areas, tonight… I'm sure the big guy's will tell me if there's somethin' more important to do.'

'Yeah … yeah,' Angel nodded; he shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and looked awkward. 'Listen - I'm actually here to ask a favour.'

'Oh … y' not get what you wanted from Wesley, yesterday?'

The vampire shook his head, and then nodded, and then shook his head again. 'Wes was a load of help, he really was - but now I'm further along and … it's you I need this time.'

Doyle raised his eyebrows, 'me?'

Angel nodded. He rocked on his heels - his fists still bunched up in his pockets, 'yeah - we're um - we're kinda pulling off a heist - tonight - and I was hoping…'

Doyle began to shake his head, he raised his hands in a 'nothing doing' gesture. 'No way, man - no way … that just isn't my line.'

'Oh come on, Doyle - we both know you're better qualified than any of the rest of us.'

But Doyle was adamant. 'That just isn't me anymore. I got caught … years later - but I got caught. And I'm not … I'm not takin' that kind o' risk again. If I'm caught breakin' and enterin' - they'll throw the book at me. I can't help y', man.'

'This object we're after, the Axis of Pythia - it'll help find Connor.'

Doyle exhaled, he shook his head and looked down at the floor. After a moment, he looked back into Angel's eyes. 'I'm sorry, man,' he said, 'I don't know what to tell y'. But anyone helpin' y' is takin' a chance and I'm not … I can't afford to take those kind o' chances. Not anymore.'

'That's it - just like that? You're saying 'no'?'

'I'm sayin' no.'

Angel stared at him for a few moments and then, 'fine,' he turned and stalked off.

'Hey!' Doyle yelled after him, 'are you plannin' on takin' Cordelia on this crime spree o' yours?'

The vampire turned back. 'Cordelia's coming along - I'm not _taking_ her anywhere - she's doing this for me, for Connor, gladly. _She_ still cares about us, you see.' And then he walked away. Doyle stared after him, for a long time - conflicting emotions crossing his face.

* * *

Wesley pushed Lilah against the wall and kissed her neck, 'we need to be quick,' he told her, 'Doyle will be here any moment.' Lilah put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, so that he landed sitting on the table. Then she climbed into his lap. 'The half breed doesn't know about us, yet?' she asked, kissing him.

'No - he won't ever know about us.' Wesley replied, ripping her shirt open, 'no one ever will.'

'Hmmmh,' she laughed, unbuttoning his own shirt and kissing down his chest, 'listen to dark Wesley - playing both sides, keeping his secrets. What would they think of you? If they knew?'

'I shudder to think.'

'Well - what did he think when he found out about your little slave girl? Justine, wasn't it?'

'You finally heard about that?'

She nibbled on his ear, 'I finally did. I bet she heard some things too.'

'The walls are soundproofed,' he told her. He grabbed her and reversed their position, so it was she sitting on the table and him standing above her. 'Though she did call you ''impossibly loud''.'

'And all this time,' she was breathing heavily, as she spoke, 'you were lying through your teeth.' She took off his belt. 'Wesley is so apathetic, Wesley doesn't care.' She folded and snapped the belt between their faces.

'I had to raise him. Angel is - necessary.'

She put the belt behind his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, 'for what?'

'For fighting people like you.'

* * *

Gwen scaled the building, climbing to the roof on a rope. Once she reached the top, she crossed over to the electrical box on the wall. It read 'Access Control systems'. She opened it up, selected one wire in particular and then severed it with a blade. Then she removed a glove and touched the protruding wire with her bare hand, shorting it out. Once that was completed, she closed the box up and moved to the access door. It had an electronic lock and, again, she just held her bare hand to it until the red light flashed green and she was granted access.

* * *

Meanwhile, the team was clambering up the fire escape, also trying to reach the auction house rooftop. 'So the little weasel really just said no, huh?' Cordelia asked Angel, as she climbed.

'He didn't wanna risk going back to jail … I get it.'

'Right - because we're all fine with doing some serious time in the slammer.'

Gunn glanced at them, as he struggled to keep up. He was huffing and puffing. 'Man - how can you guys be holdin' a conversation right now?' He panted a bit more, 'this sure looked easier on Batman.'

...

They reached the roof and went to the wiring box. Angel ripped the door off. 'Very stealthy,' Cordelia hissed. She began to look at the wires, carefully. 'Huh - this doesn't make sense.'

'What is it?'

'This wire,' she held up the one Gwen had severed, 'it's worn through,' she shook her head, 'I thought this was supposed to be a high end place. They're obviously not that big on security - or maintenance.'

'So which wire shuts off the cameras?'

She frowned and began to comb through the various wires, 'um … I think the shorted one.'

'You sure?'

'Not a hundred percent - but maybe.'

That wasn't good enough for Angel - and he decided to rip out all of the wiring. Inside - all the lights went out. Cordelia looked at the pile of wires on the floor, 'again with the stealthy.' She shook her head - and they moved over to the door, which Fred was working on getting unlocked. She had a device that scrambled the signal on the lock and, after a moment, the light flashed from red to green - and they were in.

...

Once they found a large enough space, Fred unrolled the blueprints and lay them out on the floor. She talked the men through their positions. Gunn was to make sure their escape route was secure - he had to go down one floor to the guard's station and deal with them. Angel was headed to the vault. He had to wait for the system shutdown - and then he could steal the Axis. Fred and Cordy were going into the server room to hack into the security system and shut it down. They all got up and left.

* * *

As Fred and Cordy walked away, the red light on one of the security cameras blinked back on - signifying that the camera was active, once more. Up in the ducts, Gwen manipulated the camera's wires so she could see its footage. She watched the two women walk away. 'Yeah, that's not good,' she said to herself.

* * *

The two women crept into the server room and, together, took the cover off one of the systems. 'This is kinda exciting, isn't it?' Cordelia smiled.

'Yeah - in a 'my cellmate's name is Bertha and she has 'hate' tattooed across her knuckles' kinda way,' Fred whispered back.

'Relax,' the other woman said, 'if festering Boyle can do this, then so can we.'

'I guess. I might feel a lot better if he were here right now,' Fred admitted.

'Hmm - I wouldn't.'

* * *

Gunn snuck down the corridor - behind one of the security guards. 'Look out,' he yelled. The guard turned and Gunn clubbed him over the head, knocking him out. 'Tried to warn you,' the street fighter shrugged. He began to drag the unconscious guard away.

* * *

Angel stopped in the doorway of the darkened vault room. He sprayed an aerosol and the green laser beams, which crisscrossed the room, were revealed. 'Help me out here, ladies,' Angel whispered - staring at the forest of green blocking his path. A thick metal grill dropped down from the ceiling, locking him out. 'Not exactly what I had in mind.' He reached down and began to heave at the gate.

Inside the vault, a hatch opened in the ceiling and, as he watched, a woman's head and torso appeared - hanging upside down. 'You know - I put that down for a reason,' Gwen said to him. He stared at her in disbelief.

* * *

Up in the server room, Fred typed away at the computer. 'How's it coming?' Cordy asked - looking around for any signs of their being discovered. 'I'm nearly there,' the other woman replied, 'just a …' a big red error message flashed across the screen. 'No!'

'Vault electrical monitor. System interference. Malfunction,' Cordelia read over her shoulder, 'is that bad?'

'Well I haven't even gotten into the electrical system yet - so yeah! It means…'

* * *

Gunn dragged the guard over to a supply closet and opened the door. He pulled up short when he saw four other guards already in there; bound and gagged and knocked out cold. 'We got company,' he said.

* * *

'Who are you?' Angel asked - staring at the woman who had appeared out of nowhere to mess everything up. 'Who are you?' she asked in turn.

'I asked first.'

'What? Are you seven?'

She was inside the vault - and he was trapped outside by the gate. There was no way he could beat her to the artefacts. 'Tell me you're not here for the Axis,' he groaned.

'I'm not here for the Axis.'

'You're lying.'

'I'm fibbing. It's like lying - only classier.' She reached out one bare arm and laid a finger against the nearest laser beam. Immediately, all the laser beams bent upwards, leaving the room clear for her to walk through.

'What?' Angel gasped in disbelief.

Gwen jumped down to the floor. 'Technically? I'm exciting the subatomic particles with electrical energy and then bouncing 'em off each other before they reach ground state. I just love that folks go for this hi-tech stuff. Electricity comforts them … suckers.' She walked over to the locked door - behind which all the artefacts were kept - and touched the hand print recognition panel.

'What are you?' Angel asked her, still disbelieving what he was seeing.

'I'm a freak,' she replied - as the panel beeped and gained her access. She walked into the locked vault - and then stopped dead.

'You know I'm sure there's lots of nice expensive things that you could steal, in there,' Angel yelled to her, from his position trapped outside the gate.

...

'What the hell are you doing here?' Gwen demanded of the small, unprepossessing looking man who already stood inside of the locked vault.

Doyle raised an eyebrow at her. 'I'm stealin' stuff, darlin' - which I imagine is why you're here too?' He looked around, 'you don't know which one is the Axis of Pythia do you? I never did see a picture - a friend o' mine needs it to find someone very important to him.'

'Big guy? Caveman brow?'

'Oh, so you've met Angel, then?'

'He's right outside. What - is it Grand central station here tonight or something? How did you get here before me?'

Doyle shrugged, 'I'm the best,' he said. 'Well - technically - I'm pretty small time, to be honest with y' … but I know a lot o' shady guys. A warlock owed me a favour. One teleportation spell later - and here I am.'

'You're crazy,' Gwen told him - picking up the Axis and stalking back out of the vault. Doyle scurried on after her, 'uh - darlin' - I think that's the thing I'm lookin for. And I did get here first…'

...

As they came back out into the entry room, they saw that Angel had now been joined by Gunn. 'hey there, Denzel,' Gwen smiled at the street fighter - flashing an appreciative glance over him.

'Man - I didn't know what it looked like,' Doyle apologised to Angel, 'she got it before I could...'

He was cut off by the security system being tripped. Alarms sounded and lights flashed. The gate raised itself - and Angel and Gunn ducked under and ran inside. 'Way to go, Fred,' Angel muttered to himself, as he launched himself at the strange woman. But she kicked him, easily, to one side and headed back to the ceiling hatch. Doyle grabbed at the Axis in her hand. Gunn grabbed her from behind - whilst she and the half demon had a brief tug of war over the mystical artefact. Then, frustrated, she used her bare hand to push the Irishman away from her. Immediately, there was a crackle of electricity and he flew across the room - morphing into his demon spikes - and landing with a heavy thump on the floor.

Cordelia and Fred came running into the vault at that exact moment - and pulled up short when they saw Doyle lying still on the ground. Angel went over to him - the feeling of dread mounting inside. If Doyle was OK, he would have got back up by now. He knelt down beside him and felt his neck. There was no pulse. He looked up at the others, 'he's dead.'

Cordelia raised her hands to her mouth, and began to scream.


	7. Ground State: Part Three

_Part Three_

'No, no, no!' Refusing to believe the vampire's words, Cordelia ran the length of the vault, pushed him out of the way and threw herself down beside Doyle. She picked up his hand, hoping to find the flicker of a pulse in his wrist - and when that failed, she held her hand over his heart. She had lain her head on his chest so many times, throughout the years, she knew the steady thrumming of his heartbeat - knew exactly where to find it. But when all she felt was stillness, she began to cry.

Fred and Gunn watched on, stood slightly away from her. Their breathing was ragged, their expressions horrified. Fred's eyes blurred with tears. Angel knelt beside Cordy and watched her grieve the man she claimed to no longer love.

Apart from the family, Gwen stood alone and watched it all. She remembered that day in school - so long ago - the little boy, offering his hand in friendship - when her touch brought him only death. They were so very breakable - humans. And Gwen was so very dangerous. She sighed, impatience and annoyance masked the fear churning inside of her. Running over to the prone man, she kicked the weeping girl out of the way and then knelt down next to Doyle.

She ignored the greenness of his skin - and the spikes on his face. That didn't make a hell of a lot of sense. But then neither did she. This guy was a freak, like her, it didn't matter to her how or why. She just wanted that memory to go away, to not create a new one just like it.

She placed her bare hand right where Cordelia's had been and that sent a shock right through Doyle's chest. 'Just like starting a chevy,' she muttered, as Doyle gasped and opened his eyes. 'There we go,' she said to everyone. She was leaning right over the Irishman - he stared up at her, his eyes confused for a moment, as he tried to remember what was going on. And then they cleared, as clarity hit him - and he remembered where he was and why he was there. He began to stir, forcing himself to sit up. His hand shot out - as he nearly lost his balance - and brushed past the woman who had killed and then saved him. She shrank back from him.

And that was when Angel grabbed at her and threw her against the wall. She rolled and got back up, kicking the vampire in the chest. He raised his fist to punch her, but was interrupted by Cordelia yelling. 'Angel - we need to get him out of here - we need to get him some place safe to check him over.' He backed away from Gwen and headed back to his family.

Gwen ran from them and disappeared back up inside the ceiling of the vault, and then the team helped Doyle to his feet and began their retreat from the auction house.

* * *

Wesley sat at his computer and scanned through the information he could find. He had downloaded a list of orphanages, children's homes and children's hospitals in Utah and was now scrolling through papers, local to the various establishments, to see if there was anything in there about a baby boy being abandoned over the summer.

He knew roughly whereabouts Connor must be. Justine could not have got far - in that mad flight, as he killed Holtz and she stole the baby. She had driven the van into the mountains - but by the time he had caught up with her, mere hours later, she had managed to stash the baby so he couldn't be found and taken back home. She would have driven fast, in the opposite direction to where she had left him - but that narrowed down where the baby could be, considerably.

Wesley closed his eyes, and urged himself to think. Where would she put the baby? What did he know of her that could help him?

...

_After stepping over Holtz' body, Wesley had walked through the house, searching. She was gone - and so was Connor. But there were signs of them. There was a bottle being heated on the stove, sleepsuits and blankets piled high in the laundry. He allowed himself a moment to stop; to pick up a blanket and inhale deeply. He remembered that smell. Remembered every fibre of it. The milk, the talcum powder, the baby shampoo … he remembered when it was he that lived in a ranch house surrounded by that scent. Connor. He had been so close. _

_Dropping the blanket, Wesley walked back past the corpse at the front door and returned to his motorbike. Donning his helmet, he gunned the engine and drove away - into the night, into the Wasatch mountains. He caught up with her just a couple of hours later - near Ogden._

_They had skirted Salt Lake - she was a fool - if she had driven straight into the state capital then she could have lost herself amongst the hordes of people. Hidden herself amongst the Latter Day Saints. That sort of rhetoric would appeal to Holtz - it was how he would view himself; an avenging Angel, a crusader on a holy mission. She could have been safe in Salt Lake. But instead she had fled the crowds - kept to herself - and made herself easy to spot._

_When he had finally caught scent of her - in the peaks surrounding Ogden, he had pulled off the road and taken a different path. On his bike, he was able to follow the winding, twisting, narrow roads far easier than her in her van - and so he had managed to get ahead of her. As she hit the homestretch - the wide open road into Ogden city - she had found her way barred by Wesley, parked across the road and aiming his gun at her windshield._

_She had tried to swerve him - so he shot out her tyre. The van came grinding to a stop, and he pulled her out of the driver's cab. But it was too late - and Connor was gone - and when he had demanded to know what she had done with him, she had laughed the laugh of a woman with nothing else to lose._

_He had beaten her, viciously. But she told him nothing. She was a vampire hunter, she was used to worse violence. It would take more than mere blows to cow her. He realised that. So he beat her unconscious, tied her up and threw her in the back of the van. Then he had changed the tyre, put his motorbike in the back with Justine, and driven back to Los Angeles. _

_He had kept her drugged until he had finished the cage. Once it was ready, he locked her up inside and kept her chained in there for two months. But he never broke her. She never told him where Connor was…_

_..._

He opened his eyes. He had never broken her because she was already broken, he realised. He had killed the one thing in the world that she cared about and so hiding Connor was all she had left. It was never about Connor, for her, or Angel. It was never even about Justine, herself. It was about Holtz. Always about Holtz. She would have hidden Connor in the place _Holtz_ would have hidden Connor - if it had been him on the run.

And Holtz would place the child of two demons with God.

She had abandoned Connor at a church. Justine had no faith of her own, But Wesley knew - from his readings; from talking to Angel about the past - that Holtz had been a Catholic. The baby had been left at a Catholic church.

The watcher brought up a map of Utah. Their house had been an isolated little thing, in the forests east of Holladay. He had caught her in Ogden - which was north. But she would have fled in the opposite direction, after she had abandoned Connor, to put distance between her and the baby. So she had run south at first. South of Holladay.

He searched for Catholic churches in that area and found one - in Cottonwood Heights. Breathing heavily, he started to bring up the local news for the small town, dated from two months ago - hoping against hope he would find what he was looking for.

* * *

Lilah looked at the clock. It was late - it was time to go home. She had a big meeting in the morning and she couldn't risk having dark circles under her eyes. Everyone was watching her, since she had taken over from Linwood, looking for weakness - looking for a chance to mount a coup of their own. She had to be on top of everything - so she had to sleep … even if she would rather go back to Wesley's...

She switched off her computer and picked up her coat and purse. Switching the lights off as she left the office, she made her way down to the lobby and then out towards her car. As she crossed the driveway, directly in front of the building, she bumped into Gavin - headed in the opposite direction. 'Off home so early, Lilah?' he asked her.

She gave him a sarcastic smile, 'well, unlike you - I've been in the office for the past few hours. I'm way ahead. I can afford a break. Working all night is a sign of weakness, Gavin, it means you know your work isn't up to scratch.'

He gave her a matching false smile, 'is that so? And you're so happy with the calibre of your current work that you can afford to keep taking - mmm - _recreational breaks_ with the enemy? I wonder what Mr. Suvarta would think about _that_?'

Any trace of a smile left her face, and she glowered down at the real estate attorney. 'What I get up to in my spare time is none of your business.'

'But it _is_ Mr. Survata's.'

'I'm not compromising The Senior Partners.'

He smirked even wider, 'well, that's for them to decide.' She began to walk away from him, but he called back to her. 'You know, it's a shame you're not sleeping with that limey whitehat for information - he's the only one around here that ever seems to get anything done. Behind your back - as well. Stealing the baby, raising Angel … I wonder what trick he has in store for us next. You know - you look kinda foolish, sleeping with the enemy and having him lie to you. It's us who are meant to deal in manipulation and deceit.'

'You know what, Gavin?' She turned back to look at him. 'You're right to be coming in here to pull an all nighter, because your work is subpar. Now I suggest you get back inside and get back onto those psychics - try and discover the location of the kid … or else Linwood might not be the only employee Mr. Suvarta decides has been a disappointment this month.'

She turned on her heel and stormed to her car. She got inside, glanced in her rearview mirror and then turned to reverse out of the space. She jumped. Angel was sat in the back. 'Hey, Lilah, did you miss me?' he asked. She gave him a withering look. 'Only in the sense of … no.'

'So how's it going - still knocking 'em dead here at evil incorporated?'

She smiled to herself, 'you could say that.'

* * *

Cordelia sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the sleeping man. They had taken him back to the Hyperion and placed him in his old room. They had been unable to take him to a real hospital, of course, and so it was up to Cordelia to try and heal him herself. Not that there was much she could do for him.

She gazed at him, as he slept, watching the rise and fall of his chest - and found herself praying that it didn't stop again. She remembered hovering over him like this, almost exactly a year ago, when he had been attacked by his own visions. The feelings were so familiar - the fret, the worry, the heartache… but, no. That was the past. He had destroyed everything good they had had together and then lied about it. And - just because he looked so much like her Doyle, when he was sleeping, that it made her heart hurt - that didn't mean things were the same, or could ever be again.

But, in spite of herself, she couldn't help but watch him - couldn't help but run her eyes over his face and take him all in. He had lost weight - in the three months since she had kicked him out - the flesh on his face had grown tighter. It made the contours of his nose and chin more defined, made his cheekbones stand out more. And it made his eyes look bigger, in their sockets, too … those wonderfully expressive eyes. And when they were open they glittered darkly.

His hair was longer than she had ever seen it before, as well. He obviously hadn't bothered to get it cut since they'd broken up. It now grew down towards his collar at the back and stood up all soft and fluffy at the front. It suited him. Damnit. He didn't look healthy - he didn't look like he was taking care of himself - but he did look good.

He woke up with a shudder, and his eyes met hers. For a moment, she could tell he didn't remember - any of it. A small smile played across his lips, and for one moment he just thought he was waking up in his own bed with his girlfriend beside him. And then she saw the realisation dawn - the exact moment when clarity hit him and the memories came back. The light died from his eyes. 'Hey,' he said to her.

* * *

'Anyway - enough of the catching up,' Angel said, 'the Axis of Pythia was stolen from Chandler's Auction House.'

'Black market, upscale,' Lilah said, she had stopped twisting in her seat to look at him and was instead addressing the blank mirror.

'The thief fit that description too,' the vampire told her, 'what you might call specialised. The kind only people like your clients can afford.'

'And you want the name of the buyer?' the lawyer surmised. She turned her head, slightly, so she could see him again. 'Look, Angel - I know you've been out of the loop for a while, but I'm still evil. I don't do errands unless they're…' she grinned, 'evil errands.'

'I think you'll run this one.'

'Why?' she looked surprised, 'what's in it for me?'

'Because just this once, I'll overlook the fact that you're having Gavin use psychics to try and find my son.' He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, 'just this once.'

'You know it's interesting,' Lilah said to him, 'you coming to me for help - you seemed to have higher standards before you got dumped in the ocean. What? You leave your moral high ground down there with the fishes?'

'You know what I find interesting?' the vampire replied, 'The fact that I can smell you and Wesley all over each other.' Lilah looked taken aback, and Angel smirked - pleased with himself. 'You've got an hour,' he told her, getting out of the car.

* * *

'You need to take an aspirin,' Cordelia said to Doyle, she handed him the pill. 'Chew it - don't swallow it, it works faster that way.'

'I'm not in pain,' he said to her, 'I'm fine.'

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, 'you're not using it as a painkiller,' she said, 'it's working as a blood thinner - to help your circulation after your heart attack.'

'It wasn't really a heart attack.'

'Whatever - your heart stopped - and we need to stop it from stopping again - so take the damn aspirin.' She forced it into his hand and he put it in his mouth. 'Thanks,' he mumbled.

'Chew,' she reminded him.

He pulled a face at the acrid taste of the tablet, but he didn't say anything about it. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Doyle looked down - feeling too awkward to make eye contact. 'I guess … I guess I should be on my way, then,' he said, after a long while.

Cordelia inhaled sharply. 'You know Doyle...' He dared to glance up at her, but she wasn't looking back. 'You really - you really … pissed me off, back there.'

He looked surprised, whatever he was expecting her to say - it hadn't been that.

'No, I mean it,' she told him, 'I've spent the last four months wishing all manner of hell on you. God! I've wished your eyeballs would turn inside out, that your guts would explode inside of you, that your lying tongue would be ripped out of your mouth by an American eagle and fed in pieces to all the baby eagles … and I've wished you dead. A hundred times. I wished I'd never met you - or that you were dead. That I never went down this disastrous road with you, that I'd been spared all the lies and deceit and that you - _you_ were nothing but a pathetic footnote in history. Gone, forgotten and mourned by no one.'

Doyle looked like he didn't quite know what to say.

'And then,' she continued, 'and then - tonight happens. And you turn up - where you're not expected - get in the way and boom - you're dead - just like that. Gone. Forever. And, Doyle...' her eyes filled with tears and her next words were a whisper, 'I don't want you to die. I'm not ready. I'm not ready for anything bad to happen to you.'

He reached out and gently took her hand. 'I'm sorry,' he said to her, 'I didn't mean to frighten y', Princess.'

She snatched her hand away, 'don't call me that!' Doyle looked down again, 'sorry.' And they sat in uncomfortable silence, until they were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Fred and Gunn.

'Hey,' the street fighter said, 'how you doing, Irish?'

'Never better,' Doyle replied, 'in fact - I really think it's time I got outta here.'

'Don't you think you should stay?' Fred asked, 'in case - in case there's any side effects? You need people watching you.'

Doyle smiled, 'I appreciate the offer, darlin' - but I don't think Angel'll be too crazy about havin' me hangin' around.'

'You don't have to worry about him,' Gunn said, 'he's gone out.'

Cordelia twisted to look at the couple in the doorway. 'Angel went out?' she asked, 'where?'

'He had an idea about tracking down our mystery cat burglar - he's gone to see an old friend for help.'

'More like a mortal enemy,' Fred clarified.

'Lemme guess - he went to see Lilah?' Doyle asked them. They nodded and the Irish man groaned, 'man! I knew I shoulda said somethin'...'

* * *

Gwen arrived at the address she had been given - an office block downtown with a brightly lit lobby. She strode purposefully through the foyer and pressed the button for the elevator. Whilst she waited, she admired the redness of her reapplied lipstick in the mirrored sheen of the door.

'Nice colour,' a voice said behind her. She frowned - there was no one else reflected in the mirror. But when she turned, she saw the idiot from the auction house - the big one with the sticky up hair who had almost ruined her heist. She looked between his lack of reflection and him. 'OK. After I kick your ass, I'm gonna ask about that.' She swung at him, but he ducked and her blow missed. Behind her, the elevator arrived and the doors opened. She threw her bag inside and went back to her fight.

She kicked him - and then smacked him - but he recovered quickly and grabbed hold of her, pinning her arm behind her. She twisted free and punched him - sending an electric shock through her skin and her glove as she did. She zapped him repeatedly, with every blow, until she had him pressed against the wall - but he seemed unaffected by the shocks. 'Why aren't you toast?' she asked in frustration.

'I'm not even warmed up yet.'

'Oh really?' she punched him again, knocking him down, 'I can fix that.' She ripped off her gloves and began her onslaught once more. The fight was fast and furious, they traded kicks and punches - and, whilst they were continually on the move - giving ground, neither was gaining the upper hand.

Eventually, Gwen managed to kick Angel into the elevator. He landed heavily on the floor and she was immediately on top of him. She ripped open his shirt and placed her bare hands over his chest. 'That warm enough for you?' she asked - zapping him.

The electricity travelled through his skin and into his chest cavity. It found his still, shrivelled, brown heart and sparked into it. It immediately began to turn red and grow bigger - and beat. Feeling the sudden thumping in his chest, Angel sat up gasping, grabbed hold of Gwen and began to kiss her, passionately.


	8. Ground State: Part Four

_Part Four_

A set of ten inch thick bars suddenly slammed down across the doorway, trapping the kissing pair in the elevator. They broke apart, gasping, and Gwen stared down at the man beneath her. 'You're alive..' she said.

'You felt it?' Angel asked her, 'my heart…'

'It was beating. It doesn't - does it?'

Angel shook his head - but the motion brought him back to his senses, 'Cordelia,' he whispered under his breath. 'I've gotta get out of here.' Gwen looked up at the bars and stood up, moving towards them. 'What the hell is going on?'

Her client, Elliot, appeared at the other side of the makeshift cage. 'Well, that should be obvious … to a professional like yourself.'

'It's a double cross,' Angel said, getting to his feet.

Gwen looked at him, in irritation - she wasn't slow - she knew a double cross when she saw one. What was Angel, the narrator? She turned back to Elliot, 'you don't have to do this,' she told him, 'the job is done.'

'The job was a train wreck,' he replied. 'The noise, the publicity, that little stunt you pulled in the bar.'

'That was just a joke.'

'Professionals are discreet, young lady,' Elliot informed her, 'you, on the other hand, are a freak…' Gwen's expression became angry, 'a dangerous freak,' he continued. 'Which is why I had them remodel the elevator. Actually, it's more like a retrofit. Low-teched the whole thing with 6 inches of plexiglass separating you from any available current.'

Gwen touched the bars and tried to fry them - nothing happened. 'Tempered lucite,' Elliot told her.

'He's gonna seal us in and turn on the gas,' Angel realised. Gwen glanced back at him again - enough with the narration, already, she got it!

'Now, don't worry,' Elliot smirked, 'I'm told the gas is very fast acting. You'll be dead within…' he checked the bare wrist where his twelve thousand dollar watch should be, 'uh - whoops! Where does the time go?'

The doors slid shut - and Gwen and Angel were sealed inside. Yellow gas began to leak out of the air vents. Angel pushed the woman to the floor, 'get down! get low!'

'Ow you jackass - you get low.'

'I don't need to. I don't breathe.'

'That's gotta be a turn on.'

Angel ignored her and began to feel the walls, 'there's gotta be something.' He looked back at her, 'is the utility panel about here?' he indicated the side of the elevator.

'The plastic's too thick, you lunk head - I can't blow the charge.'

'Simple question - is it there or not?'

She told him it was, and Angel began to repeatedly smash the plastic with his fist - until the clear material began to crack.

'If I die...' Gwen said, coughing and gasping on the floor.

'You're not going to die.'

'Nice kiss.'

Eventually, he punched a hole right through the plexiglass and smashed into the utility panel. He held onto the wires with his right hand and turned to reach out to Gwen with his left. 'OK.' She reached up and grabbed his hand, the charge travelled through her, harmlessly through him, and fried the wires. The elevator doors opened and the bars retracted.

* * *

Wesley had found the Cottonwood Heights and Holladay journal - the only local paper for the area he was interested in. He scrolled back through the news stories, going back to late July. It should be somewhere around here - if it was here at all.

The local news stories were interminable - even just rolling past their headlines: the city council doing this; high school students doing that; church events on this date; x amount of money raised - but finally, there it was! A baby boy, approximately ten months old - name and origin unknown, had been found abandoned on the doorstep of St. Thomas More Catholic Church. He was healthy and doing well - but there were calls for the mother to come forward and make herself known.

Wesley smiled, grimly - well, Darla wasn't going to be stepping forward any time soon. And a lack of more recent coverage suggested that Justine had not gone back for the baby. Connor was safe - and the people at the church would know exactly where he was.

The watcher didn't know why Doyle hadn't turned up for patrol this evening - they were supposed to have gone out hunting - but, whatever the reason, he was glad the Irishman had flaked on him. He had found Connor - or close enough - he could give Angel back his son. He pressed print - and his printer sprang into life and the news article churned out.

* * *

'Yeah, I should be finished here any moment now,' Elliot said into his phone, 'uhuh, uhuh … I see … but we had the tuna casserole last Thursday, Molly.' Behind him, the elevator doors slid open and Angel came out, carrying an unconscious Gwen. He placed her down on the floor, gently. Elliot spotted him, 'get rid of him,' he said to his men.

The security guys closed in on Angel. The first attacked - and the vampire kicked him out of the way, easily. He took the rest out in short order. The brawl was fast and brutal and, in the end, only Angel was left standing. The other men lay on the ground, knocked out cold. As he looked around, he realised that Gwen had recovered. She was back on her feet and moving towards Elliot - slow and menacing.

'I expect to get screwed,' she said to her client. 'Professional thief. Hazard of the biz.'

'Just wait a second, please,' Elliot looked and sounded terrified.

'What I don't appreciate, Elliot, is being called a freak. That's my word - and I get cranky when people like you use it.'

Angel watched her, 'Gwen,' he said, warning - understanding what she was going to do, 'think about this.' But she ignored him. 'Ever been struck by lightning, Elliot?' she asked, 'I've been struck by lightning fourteen times. It's not my fault - I just attract it. You know what else attracts lightning? Maggoty little norms like you.' She put her hand against her client's chest - ready to shock him, but Angel knocked her arm away.

'So you're a freak. Boo hoo. So what?' he said.

Gwen started at him, 'excuse me?' her tone was dangerous. But Angel was not interested in her hurt feelings. 'I think you've already figured out I'm not exactly the poster boy for normal. Sometimes, you gotta let go.' He turned and punched Elliot square in the face, knocking him to the ground. Gwen looked annoyed, 'hey! I was gonna do that!'

'You were gonna fry him,' Angel said.

'Was not.'

'Don't fib.'

'Fine - did you at least break his nose?' She reached out a hand to check - but the electricity was still crackling from her fingertips, so Angel stopped her once more. She looked at him, 'what did you want the Axis for anyway?' she asked him. 'You're not a professional thief - I can tell that much - so it isn't for the money. Why?'

'It's a mystical artefact,' Angel admitted, 'it can find lost souls. I need it to help me find someone important. Someone I lost.'

'Figures,' she shook her head, 'a thief that lousy - you gotta be doing it for love.' She smiled, then - sadly, 'is she pretty?' she asked.

'She's a he,' Angel said, 'and he's beautiful - least to me, he is. My son. Someone stole my son - Connor - I need to get him back.'

'Oh,' she breathed, 'I'm sorry.'

'I'll give it back to you to sell, once I've used it - I don't care about the money. Just about…'

'Finding your son,' she finished up. She opened up the bag she had stashed the Axis in, back at the auction house, and reached inside, 'here you…' she trailed off, as she failed to grab it, and peered inside the bag. She rooted some more, and then looked up at the vampire - her expression shocked and disbelieving. 'It isn't there.'

'What do you mean it isn't there?' Angel demanded.

'I don't have it.'

'Well then where the hell is it?'

* * *

The Axis of Pythia stood on Angel's desk, gleaming in the light. 'How did you get it?' Gunn asked.

Doyle shrugged, 'when I … woke up … that chick was leaning right over me. The Axis was stashed in her bag, I could see it. So I swiped it, whilst you were all still freakin' out about me bein' dead. Angel dragged her away from me and started kickin' her ass - and when you were all watchin' the show, I shoved it down my waist band. Easy really.'

'Easy?' Fred sounded incredulous, 'the heists where you die are the ones you consider easy?'

'Ah - all in a day's work.'

'You swipe a 33 million dollar mystical whosit from mystery electrogal and that's all in a day's work?'

Doyle shrugged again, 'hey - mystery chick may have superpowers - but I'm still the best thief in the business.'

Cordelia sighed, she had been leaning against the doorway, her arms folded, listening as the other spoke. At Doyle's words, she unfolded her arms and began to walk away. 'I guess you are,' she muttered to herself. She walked over to the door, which led out to the courtyard, and stepped outside.

Doyle watched her go, glanced at Fred and Gunn, and then followed on after her. The young couple left them to it - closing the door of the office to give them some privacy - and wait for Angel's return.

...

As he reached the doorway, Doyle could see Cordelia standing in the middle of the courtyard. She had her arms wrapped around herself, warding off the night air - and was staring up at the moon. She looked sad, he thought - and he wondered what he should say to her … or whether it might not be better just to leave her alone.

As he turned to go, he caught sight of something silver out of the corner of his eye - and he turned back just in time to see a dark figure loom out of the shadows and jump on Cordy. She screamed and went down - and Doyle saw that flash of silver again - a blade, glinting in the moonlight. Without thinking, he morphed into his spikes and ran outside - throwing himself at Cordy's assailant.

He managed to grab at the attacker, and haul him back by his armpits. Cordelia, on the ground - and wide eyed in shock - instinctively kicked her leg out and booted the figure in the groin. The creature groaned and slumped down and Doyle thumped him hard in the face, as Cordelia scrambled back to her feet. Realising it was outnumbered, the shadowy figure stumbled backwards and then turned and fled out of the gateway.

Doyle turned to Cordy, searching her over with his eyes. His heart was drumming thunderously in his chest and the blood was pounding in his ears - making it hard for him to think. His breath came out in shallow, ragged gasps. 'Are you OK?' he asked her. She stared back at him. 'Did he hurt you?' he questioned.

She shook her head, slowly. Her dark eyes seemed to stare right into him, as her brain caught up with events - and she realised he had just saved her life. For one moment, Doyle was reminded of that night - so long ago - the night he had been thinking about so much, recently. The night he had saved her from a vampire and she had begun to fall in love with him. And suddenly, as she stared at him - quiet and still - it wasn't the adrenaline of the fight that was making his heart beat so fast.

But that night was years ago, now. They had moved on from then - and it would take more than one lucky rescue mission to fix what Doyle had broken. Cordelia's eyes hardened. 'I guess I should say thanks,' she said, though she sounded more angry than grateful. 'Why were you out here, anyway?'

He suddenly didn't want to admit that he had followed her - that he had been looking to talk to her, when she so clearly wanted nothing to do with him. 'Uh - I had a - a vision of you - in trouble. Came out to … y'know,' he lied.

'Right, well … thanks. But I don't need you looking out for me anymore, Doyle. I can take care of myself. I'm glad you happened by just now, but …' she took a deep breath, 'I don't want you hanging around near me anymore, you hear?'

He nodded - and turned, walking away and leaving the hotel; his shoulders slumped in defeat. Cordelia sank down on the bench and buried her head in her hands. Tonight had been such a mess. Doyle dying. Doyle saving her life. It had made her unsure of herself - of her feelings. She hated that. She needed to move forward, she thought, taking a deep breath. The past was the past and she couldn't change it - even if she wanted to. Tonight had brought up old feelings - but that's all they were - old feelings. She would bury them deep and move on.

* * *

Fred and Gunn stood outside Angel's office. The vampire was back in there, now - using the Axis of Pythia. They were not sure what was going on - but a bright, golden light was emanating from the cracks around the door. 'Do you think he'll find him?' Fred whispered.

The light suddenly died away, and the door opened. Angel walked past them, without saying anything. 'I think he found him,' Gunn replied.

* * *

Doyle returned to his motel room. He switched the light on and sat on the bed. He sat there for a long time, before he took his shoes off and then his pants. He crawled under the covers and switched the bedside lamp off. His chest felt funny. Logically, he told himself - that would be because he had had his heart stopped and then restarted again. He had died tonight. That was reason enough to feel funny. But he knew, really, that the tightness was caused by Cordelia.

He had spent so long reminiscing about the first ever time he had saved her life. Dreaming of that moment, trying to break through the walls of time and memory and touch it again. Then, tonight, he got to relive that moment - almost exactly - and it had all crumbled to ashes. She didn't love him - or at least, she wasn't going to let herself love him. And so now it was only a matter of time before she moved on - on to Angel.

* * *

Cordelia arrived back home. Dennis began to fill the tub for her - and when it was done, she gratefully slid in under the bubbles and let him rub her back with the loofah. 'That feels good,' she moaned. After a while, she sunk backwards - and closed her eyes. But then all she could see was Doyle lying on the ground: dead. She opened her eyes again - but the sudden flash of light, after the darkness, reminded her of the glint of the silver blade in the moonlight.

She just wanted to be safe, she thought to herself. Not just physically safe - but she wanted her heart to be safe. She wanted someone who would never leave her, who would never die. Someone who could always take care of themselves - and her. Now Angel was back - it was time to take a chance. She could depend on him; she could rely on him; he could cheer her up when she was sad - and he was practically indestructible.

Maybe it was time that they had that long postponed talk.

* * *

Wesley arrived at the Hyperion, the printout clutched in his hand. Only Fred was in the lobby - and his heart hammered inside his chest when he saw her. For all he did with Lilah, his feelings towards Fred remained unchanged. And seeing her again was painful - and wonderful. But he tried not to let any of that show.

'Where is everyone?' he asked her.

'Wes, hey!' Her smile was warm and welcoming; then became a little awkward, as she thought of all that had transpired between the watcher and their family - and how she was the only one that seemed to remember that they had used to love him. 'Uhm - Cordy went home - it's been a crazy day! And Charles has taken Angel … they've found Connor!' her face lit up in another smile, 'Charles is driving Angel out to Utah - Connor should be back home with us tomorrow.'

'Oh,' Wesley fought to keep his face impassive. 'That's - that's wonderful. Well, if no one is here I'd better …'

'Did you want to speak to Angel about somethin'?'

The watcher glanced down at the printout - the news story about the abandoned baby and the address of the church - 'no - no, it's nothing.' He turned to leave.

'Shall I tell him you stopped by?'

Wesley sighed, deeply. 'There's no need.'

* * *

It was early in the morning, when Angel arrived at the orphanage. The first fringes of dawn were beginning to flicker across the horizon - but, fortunately, the Mother Superior had yet to open the blinds and allow the light of a new day to flood the office. Angel sat across the desk from her - and waited whilst she looked at the documents he had brought. Had he been human, he would have been holding his breath. Had he not been a vampire, he would have been praying that she would accept what he showed her.

After what seemed like an eternity, she looked up - and her face was wreathed in smiles. 'This all seems in order, M. Angel. I'm so glad you've turned up - he's such a lovely little boy, we're so fond of him. I'm so pleased to know he has a real home to go to.'

'So, can I see him?'

'Of course.' She rang a bell - and a moment later another nun appeared. 'Ah - Sister Assumpta. This is Mr. Angel. He is the father of our mystery little boy - the Lord has shown him where his son was, and he has come to take him home. Would you please show him to the nursery?'

Sister Assumpta led the way, and Angel followed on behind her. 'Your name is Angel?' the nun asked. He nodded and she smiled, 'well it just shows that the good Lord is ever there to guide us and show us the truth. Without a name for the little boy - I've been calling him my little angel since he came to us. And now it turns out that is exactly what he is. What's his real name?'

'Connor,' Angel told her, 'Connor Angel.' The nun beamed. She opened the door to the nursery and then crossed to Connor's crib, lifting him out. 'Here we go, my little angel - look who is here to see you.' She turned - so that the baby could see his visitor - and Connor's face broke out into a huge smile, when he recognised his father.

The same smile mirrored on his own face, Angel reached out for him and took him from the nun. He wrapped his arms around the baby and held him close. '_Connor.'_

* * *

**A/N Next episode is 'The House Always Wins.' **


	9. The House Always Wins: Part One

**The House Always Wins**

_Part One_

The man stumbled out of the abandoned warehouse, clutching at his arm. It was bleeding - he had been injured in the fight. But, when he got out to the alley, the guy was there. Already. The guy who was trying to kill him. 'How did you…?' the man asked, 'nothing human could move that fast.'

'Well I aint human, bud,' Doyle replied, morphing into his spikes. He headbutted the man, who stumbled backwards and then regained his footing. When he came back up, he was vamped out. 'And neither are you,' the Irishman said, 'which is why we gotta problem.' He hit out with his right arm, but the vampire caught it and threw the half demon away from himself. Doyle staggered back, but the vampire did not give him time to recover. It knocked him to the ground and then loomed over him - mouth open - fangs exposed - ready to bite.

Doyle stared up at the vampire, fearfully. This was it. He'd finally lost the good fight. To some dumb, run of the mill vampire. So this was how it ended. He closed his eyes and whispered a brief farewell to Cordelia … but the bite never came. Instead, he heard the unmistakable sound of a vampire turning to dust.

He opened his eyes again and stared up - looking to see who had come to his rescue. As the cloud of dust cleared, Doyle's mouth dropped open in shock.

'Your Majesty,' the Groosalug bowed low to the downed half demon, 'it was an honour to vanquish that vantal and save your life.' Doyle just continued to stare.

* * *

'So what do we do now?' asked Fred, through a mouthful of her Chinese takeout. She looked across at her boyfriend, her vampire boss - who dandled Connor on his knee, and at Cordelia. 'We've spent so long workin' on getting Angel back - and getting Connor back. Now we're all back together - now what?'

'Well, it might have passed you by, Fred, but we do have a business to run and bills to pay,' Cordelia pointed out to her. She fished a water chestnut out of her carton and handed it across to Angel, 'here, Connor likes these.' The vampire took it with a smile and began to feed the water chestnut to his infant son.

'Right - the business - we gotta get that up and sputtering again. But, don't ya think maybe we ought to have a plan? Like - a long term plan - for what we do next?'

'Kill the vampires, slay the nasties and save the damsels - been workin' for us fine for years,' Gunn said to her.

'Yeah, but,' the woman glanced at Cordelia and looked uncomfortable, 'we always had - direction - before, I guess, someone tellin' us what to do, now…'

'Fred's right,' Angel agreed, looking up from his son, 'I think maybe it's time we got away - the four of us … five of us. Give ourselves some space to reflect on where we're headed.'

'What - you mean like a spiritual retreat?' Fred asked.

'Exactly.'

'Whoa - you mean like that monastery you went to in Tibet?' Gunn sounded sceptical.

'Exactly,' the vampire repeated - smiling.

* * *

The car cruised down The Strip - past the bright lights - flashing and neon. 'Woah,' Gunn smiled as he looked around, 'this is my idea of a spiritual retreat!'

'I just thought we could all use a little getaway to decompress,' Angel told his friends - as he navigated driving the convertible down the busy road. 'I know I haven't had a vacation in a while. Not counting my recent ocean cruise.'

Cordelia smiled at him from the front seat, she held Connor on her knee and was snuggling him close. 'This is gonna be so great,' she enthused. 'I haven't had a proper vacation since the time I went skiing in Aspen one Christmas. That was last century! A couple of months later, the IRS caught up with my folks and then it was adios exotic getaways … and car, and house and … everything nice.' Her face wrinkled up, as she remembered - but Angel glanced across at her and smiled. 'Yeah - but look where it got you. Me, you, Connor, Vegas - it's gonna be a party!' Cordelia burst out laughing.

'Yeah, but the reason we're here is to see Lorne, right?' Fred said from the backseat - she leaned forwards so that they could hear her upfront.

'Absolutely,' Angel agreed, 'then maybe afterwards we can check out that Danny Gans guy we keep seeing billboards for,' he pointed to one such bright sign. Cordelia snorted, 'what a dork,' she muttered.

'You mean after Lorne reads you and helps you back onto your path?' Fred clarified.

'Yeah … whatever…' Angel didn't share the woman's enthusiasm at the thought of him singing and having his destiny read. Right now he was just enjoying being back with Connor and Cordy … truth be told, he didn't really want to know what awful thing was no doubt headed his way. He just wanted to enjoy this moment, whilst everything was still good. He glanced around, as he was driving, and whistled, 'wow this place has sure changed.'

Gunn leaned forward to talk to him, then, 'get out! You never said you'd been to Vegas before.'

'He's, like, a million years old,' Cordelia rolled her eyes, 'he's been _everywhere_ before - and has a thousand dull tales to tell about it.' She deepened her voice, mimicking the vampire, 'when I was in Minnesota in the 1840s I stalked this woman; when I was in Paris in the 1790s I stalked this woman. I stalked _this_ woman all the way to the Bermuda triangle...'

Fred and Gunn laughed - and Angel gave her a withering look, she returned a wide eyed and innocent smile. 'Well, I didn't stalk anyone in Vegas,' he told them all, 'this was once I had a soul.'

'Gee, 'cause you never stalk women when you have one of those,' Cordelia said. He glowered at her, again, and she raised her hands in defeat. 'I'm listening!' she said, 'tell us - oh old one - about your wild days, back in the day, here in sin city.'

'Back then,' he pointed to the bright lights and hotels on the right, 'this was all dunes.'

'Party,' Cordelia snickered.

Gunn laughed as well, 'man, you haven't been here in a while! They pulled the Dunes down ten years ago.'

It was Angel's turn to laugh. 'Not the casino,' he corrected, 'sand dunes. Bugsy used to call them bug piles.'

'Bugsy?' Gunn sounded incredulous, 'Bugsy Siegal?'

Cordelia turned to look back at the street fighter, 'who's Bugsy Siegal?' she asked, wrinkling her nose.

'Gangster - big time - he pretty much single handed built The Strip.' He turned to look at Angel, 'you used to run with Bugsy Siegal?'

'Not one for words - but he had a mean backhand on the tennis court.'

'Boy - you were really letting that soul get in the way of a good time back in the day, huh? Gangsters, tennis, casinos, sand dunes … I can just feel the torment.' Cordelia was staring at him, as she spoke. This was a side of Angel she'd never really heard of before - hadn't imagined. All she'd ever known was evil or tortured. But this guy … he sounded … fun.

Angel decided it was time to change the topic, 'uh - so what should we do first?' he asked.

'Finding a place to stay so that Connor can get some shut eye wouldn't go amiss,' Cordelia told him, she jigged the baby on her knee, 'he is way overstimulated - we need somewhere quiet and dark.'

'Man - we live in the quiet and dark - I want bright and loud,' Gunn protested.

'Well, the place Lorne is playing is called the Tropicana,' Fred said, looking down at the leaflet she had printed off the net. Gunn and Angel both turned to look at her. 'The Tropicana?' her boyfriend asked, 'THE Tropicana? That can't be right.'

'Why not?'

'The Tropicana is a pretty high profile casino,' Angel told her, 'not some low key out of the way dive. Looking the way Lorne looks, he'd have to go someplace a little bit more, you know, discreet.'

They stopped at a red light, right by a billboard and Fred stared up at it. 'Uh - how discreet exactly?' she asked. The others turned to look. There was a twenty foot picture of Lorne, lounging against a velvet background. The scrolling green letters underneath read: Lorne, the green velvet fog.

* * *

Fred and Gunn sat excitedly in the theatre - waiting for Lorne to make his big appearance. Cordy and Angel were upstairs in the room, they would catch the second show - whilst Fred and Gunn took over babysitting duty. 'I just can't believe this,' the street fighter shook his head, 'Lorne headlining a place like this? How can…' The curtains opened and the stage was filled with dancing girls; painted green and wearing large, red horns. They each carried a feathered fan and strutted around the stage, performing an elaborate dance, as the audience began to clap along in time. The atmosphere was electric - and the young couple grinned at each other in anticipation.

The dancing girls moved in a circle until they were all clustered in the centre of the stage. They each held their fan up and began to shake it, forming a screen. Right in the centre of the cluster, Lorne suddenly rose from the stage floor, sitting on a stool - holding a mic, and wearing a sequinned dinner jacket. He raised the microphone - as the feathered fans trailed away, leaving him alone in the spotlight. '_It's not that easy being green…'_

* * *

'There, I think he's down for the night,' Angel said walking into the living area of their room, where Cordelia waited for him. 'Just drank down his whole bottle and then was out like a…' he trailed off. Cordelia wasn't sitting down, as he had expected - watching T.V or flicking through a magazine. She was stood up - and her body language was awkward; nervous.

'What is it?' he asked her. She took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. 'I think we should finally talk.'

* * *

The crowd went wild with applause. 'No one seems bothered by the fact that he's a demon,' Gunn said over the deafening clapping, leaning in so Fred could hear him. She didn't even tear her eyes away from the stage, as she answered. 'They must just think it's makeup - like the Blue Man group.' She suddenly wrinkled her brow in consternation, '..wait - you don't think the Blue Man group …?'

'_Oh, but Green's the colour of spring.'_

* * *

'Uh - talk?' Angel lowered his prominent brow, 'about…?'

'We were supposed to - you know - _talk _\- that night out on the bluffs.'

'Oh,' he looked awkward, 'that talk.'

She nodded - and took a step closer towards him. 'There were so many things that we never got the chance to say to each other. And now - it's like we have a second chance. And I know how the world works, Angel, second chances don't come around that often. If you want something - you have to reach out and take it.'

'And …' he took another step towards her, 'you want... something … _me_?'

* * *

The song came to an end and Lorne got to his feet. Behind him, the red curtains closed and the spotlight followed him as he moved towards the edge of the stage. 'Thank you,' he said to the audience, 'thank you so much. You know, I gotta tell you folks, you are by far the kickingest crowd that I've had the privilege of performing for here at the Tropicana. Now, you know what, just for you guys - I think it's time we crank things up a notch …' He took off his bow tie and handed it to a woman on the front row, 'here you go, honey,' then he unbuttoned his top two buttons.

He pointed to his orchestra, 'maestro can we have some drums sil vous plait?' The drums started up. 'Paco - gimme a little bass, merci merci… now all I need is a little help from my Lornettes.' The green dancing girls came out onto the stage and began to sing, '_hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister…' _

Lorne jumped down off the stage into the aisle. Fred screamed and clapped her hands like an excited fan. Gunn stared at her in bemusement. 'He's very good,' she said, embarrassed.

Lorne was singing the verse, walking through the audience - working the crowd. As he got to the final line of the verse he stopped and put the mic in front of a well dressed man sat by the aisle. The man looked nervous, '_creole lady marmalade', _he sang nervously - and then laughed self deprecatingly.

'_Wow wow wow,' _Lorne sang in response, moving away. '_Voulez vous coucher avec moi, c'est soir.' _He put the microphone in front of a middle aged woman - and her voice wobbled as she sang the line back to him. The singing demon gave the woman a kiss and then walked back on through the crowd - still singing - heading closer towards Fred and Gunn.

* * *

'Is this crazy?' Cordelia asked, taking another step towards the vampire, 'this is crazy isn't it… I mean,... with Connor - and the curse and…'

'It's crazy,' Angel told her, 'but it feels _right_. I've lived a long time, Cordelia, and I know that it's the chances that you don't take that you end up regretting. Not the ones that you do.'

They were barely inches apart now, gazing into each other's eyes. 'But - it's _us_,' Cordelia whispered, 'Angel, you're my best friend - you're always there when I need you. You've changed my life in just so many ways.'

'That's exactly how it is for me too, Cordy - but with you, I mean,' he said. 'I was a mess before you came into my life … I've been a mess a whole lot of the time. But you keep me steady, keep me grounded. Your friendship means more to me than I can say and … when you get to a certain point - these feelings. They become inevitable.'

She stared up at him, barely breathing. 'So you do feel feelings? For me?'

'I do … do you?'

* * *

'Oh here he comes!' Fred squealed as Lorne came closer. 'He is gonna plotz when he sees us.'

'Just as long as he doesn't shove that mic in my face,' Gunn grumbled. Fred giggled, 'Oh come on, Charles. It's all in fun. Besides - you have a nice voice.'

'Yeah - well you can do it if you want but I'm not in the mood to…'

The demon walked past their table without looking at them.

'He just walked right by,' Fred looked downcast and disappointed.

'Oh…' Gunn also looked let down, 'well, good.'

* * *

The two of them were now stood so close they were practically touching. Cordelia's breathing was heavy and her cheeks were flushed - and the signs of her excitement were intoxicating to the vampire. 'I feel - definite feelings,' she told him, gazing upward. She had never had to gaze upward with Doyle - he was the same height as her. She closed her eyes, shaking her head and concentrating on the man in front of her, instead of the one she was moving away from. 'But this is a big risk to take.'

'It's a risk I want to take.'

'Me too … but…'

'We can go slowly,' he whispered to her, 'we don't have to rush … anything.' She nodded at his words, and he took hold of her hand, squeezing it gently. As their skin brushed against each other - it was like a spark of electricity passed between them. They both glanced down at where their hands were clasped, and then looked back into each other's eyes.

There was one, breathless, moment and then Angel leaned down and pressed his lips against Cordelia's. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer and opened her lips. Their kiss deepened - and then Angel scooped Cordelia into his arms and carried her over to the couch.

* * *

'_Just say creole lady marmalade!' _Lorne belted into his mic. Then he turned to the young woman he had stopped in front of and held the microphone out to her. '_Ya ya da da'_ she sang, her voice wobbling. She giggled and put her hands on her hips. '_Giuchie giuchie yay ya hey!'_ she did a little wiggle and both her and Lorne laughed.

'All right!' Lorne said into the microphone. 'Well you're just a tickle me cutie. What's your name, peach pie?' he pointed the mic back at her. 'Vivian,' she giggled. Her friends cheered her and Lorne smiled down at them. 'Aw Viv, looks like you've got a little celebration going on here.'

'Going away party, actually,' she smiled.

'Going away? We've only just met! Where are you going?'

'Paris,' she told him, 'I was just accepted into a culinary school there.'

Lorne raised his eyebrows, looking surprised, and then addressed the rest of the audience. 'How about that? How about sending a little good will to our chef of the future?' The crowd all cheered and Vivian sat down, blushing. 'And Vivian I've only got one thing to say to you: _giuchie giuchie ya ya da da,' _he took up the song once more and walked back through the crowd - headed for the stage.

* * *

Doyle flipped the light of his motel room on and then ushered the Groosalug inside. He motioned to the ratty old armchair, and the champion sat down in it. Then the half demon got out two battered mugs and poured a slug of scotch into each one. He handed one to the other man. 'So - uh - gruesome slug … Groosalug, uh - what brings you to this dimension? Not that I'm unhappy to see y' or anythin - especially not with y' timin' tonight. Thanks, by the way.'

'It was my honour, Majesty,' the Groosalug bowed his head at Doyle, and then took a sniff of the contents of his mug. He pulled a face, but tried to drink some anyway. It burned as he drank it, and the taste was unusual and unpleasant. His handsome face screwed up in disgust, but then he quickly remembered himself and smiled. 'Most delicious!' he said. He raised the mug in a toast, 'hail to you, noble Majesty.'

Doyle raised his mug back at him, 'cheers, now about why you're here…?'

'Ah - yes - I have come to seek your wise counsel, my Lord.'

The Irishman looked nonplussed, 'my wise counsel? … I'm an idiot!'

'Throughout your tenure as King of my lands you ruled mercifully and with great wisdom. This past year I have often looked to your example and often found myself asking, 'what would King Fran_cis_Doyle of the Brachen clan do in such a situation?''

'Get drunk?' Doyle suggested. But the champion paid him no heed. 'Alas - the high standards that you guarded me to keep have proved impossible to uphold,' he admitted, 'great trouble has broken out in Pylea.'

'Things aren't too great at the minute, here, either,' the half demon admitted.

'At first - all was well. Marelda, my chosen consort was a great comfort and guide to me - as her radiance was to you…'

Doyle sighed to himself, sadly, 'yep,' he said, softly.

'But - in truth, I never held Marelda's heart. In the end - she left me for a fellow palace cow that she had long loved. What could I do?' The Groosalug smiled, sadly. 'In her absence, I struggled to rule as wisely as I might. The tedium of the council chamber, after a lifetime on the battlefield, it was too much to bear. The people turned against me…'

'They'll do that,' Doyle nodded.

'Endless committees were formed. Committees splintered into factions, the factions into coalitions, the coalitions into sub-committees. Until finally, the more radical element - spurred on by a charismatic leader - did the dance of revolution.'

'And so you hopped a portal over here?'

The Groosalug nodded, 'to seek out your noble self. You are the true king of Pylea - you bear the pure sight. You can tell me what must be done. You still have the visions to guide you.'

The Irishman looked awkward, 'yeah - right - the visions… look, bud, I don't know what to tell y'. Truth be told - I'm kinda in a mess myself. Cordelia - my chosen consort - well, she sorta unchose me. She left. I screwed up - I'm fallin' apart. I'm the last fella y' want to be comin' to for advice.'

The Groosalug's handsome face wrinkled up into a frown on consternation. 'But will your visions not tell you what to do for the best?'

Doyle took a deep breath - but was then saved from answering by his phone beginning to ring. 'Hold that thought,' he said, and flipped his cell open, 'yello?' A panicked voice buzzed in his ear, and frown lines began to form on his brow. 'Hold up, hold up … Mr. Nabbit? Is that you?'

* * *

Fred and Gunn stood out in the corridor, with a whole crowd of excited fans, waiting for Lorne to make his appearance. 'That was just - wow - wasn't it!' Fred enthused, 'with those laser lights and those Lornette girls and hello! 30 piece orchestra!'

'Yeah, but I still don't get why he dissed us during the singalong,' Gunn muttered - more to himself than to Fred. But she caught his words and gave him a look. 'It's just nice to be asked is all!' he defended himself.

The door opened and Lorne came out, flanked by a bodyguard. 'There he is!' Fred enthused - jumping up and down. The rest of the crowd were jumping up and down and yelling, as well - Lorne was a hit in Vegas. 'Hey, how're you doing?' Lorne said as he passed the fans by - giving them a casual wave and a smile. 'Lorne! It's us!' Fred yelled.

'Hey - love ya!' the demon said - still moving away.

'We love you too…' the woman cut herself off and looked back at her boyfriend, 'that was just him being superficial wasn't it?'

Gunn frowned, 'Lorne!' he yelled, 'hey, Lorne!' But the demon walked away without looking back.

'Did he not see us?' Fred asked, sounding concerned.

'Don't see how he could have missed us.'

...

'Who were your friends?' the bodyguard asked Lorne, as they walked down the corridor. 'What friends?... oh, they were just some old fans of mine.' His voice was bored and disinterested. They entered into the dressing room - there were two more security guards outside the door. The doors had green stars on with Lorne's name written in them in curly gold writing. As the double doors swung behind them - the security guards moved so they were blocking the entrance once more.

* * *

Lorne sat in front of his dressing room mirror. A Lornette brought him a drink and he thanked her. She left and he swigged the shot. Then he took off his jacket and poured himself a martini. The doors opened, again, and a short man with thinning hair came in. 'Excuse me Lorne, I don't wanna disturb you,' his tone was almost deferential, 'but that was…' he blew a kiss, 'mwah,' his voice turned flattering, 'there just aren't words … genius - that's what you are.'

'I'm kinda tired, Lee,' Lorne said to the small man, turning from him. But Lee wasn't willing to give up talking just yet. 'Well of course you are - out there giving one hundred - one hundred and fifty percent. That's why you're the king, baby, and I'm just so lucky to have a talent like you at my casino. Look I don't wanna take up any more of your valuable time…'

The bodyguard took out a piece of paper and held it out to the demon. 'Can we do this later?' Lorne asked, taking a sip of his martini.

Lee inhaled. 'Gee, Lorne, I'd love to. But you got another show to prepare for. And I got things to do.'

'Yeah, but later would be so much better.'

The bodyguard punched Lorne in the stomach and the demon doubled over in pain. Then Lee got up into his face, menacingly. 'I think now is a good time,' he said, 'or should we pink slip another girl from your act?'

Lorne looked defeated and looked at the piece of paper. It was a plan of the auditorium. He pointed to where the man in the suit had been seated - this fella had a two term Nevada senatorship coming up in 12 years. He pointed to table twelve. The boy in the green sweater, who had been sitting there, was going to write a Pulitzer winning novel. Then he pointed to Vivian's seat. She was going to have three five star restaurants in the next ten years.

'What else?' Lee asked.

But Lorne shook his head - that was all he had seen - all the remarkable destinies he had been able to read out there.

'OK, well that's terrific, you're a prince.' Lee got up to leave. 'Now if there's anything else my staff can provide for your comfort, just say the word.' He clicked a button on a remote control he held in his hand. 'Have a terrific second show.' He walked away down the corridor - and a set of prison bars slammed down in the doorway - locking Lorne inside his dressing room.


	10. The House Always Wins: Part Two

_Part Two_

'No, I'm working late as well,' Wes said into his phone, he paced up and down in his living room, as he spoke. There was a man sat on his sofa, looking over some designs - and Wes wanted rid of him. He had better things to do - but he wasn't about to admit that and let Lilah know he was wanting her. He laughed, when he heard what she had to say - on the other end of the phone - 'sorry to disappoint, Lilah, but I'm not waiting at the door with a scowl and a burnt pot roast.' She said something in return and he laughed, again. 'Well, if your lot can have the world destroyed by midnight, we could still…' he was cut off by the call waiting sound beeping. 'Damnit, hold on.'

He took the phone away from his ear and pressed to allow the next call through. As he did, he glanced at the guy on the sofa. 'Can you put all that together for me?' he asked.

'It's a pretty funky package,' the guy told him, staring down at the drawings, 'it won't be cheap.'

'I don't need it to be cheap, I need it to work.'

'Uh - yeah, then - I guess, yes.'

Wesley nodded, 'then go,' and he spoke into the phone, 'hello?'

...

'Wes, man - it's me. I got…' Doyle looked at where the Groosalug was stood, examining the half demon's toothbrush with a look of confusion on his face, 'kind o' a situation, here - tonight's shapin' up to be crazy, man.'

Wesley frowned, 'what's going on?'

Doyle crossed to the bathroom and took the toothbrush out of the Groosalug's hand, 'I'll get you one o' your own,' he promised,'... and show y' how to use it. Wes - remember that undefeated champion from Pylea - the gruesome slug?'

Wesley frowned, even deeper, 'yes?' he said, slowly.

'Well - he's here, in this dimension. Seems he's been overthrown and - uh - wants guidance … from the visions.'

'Doyle - if he asks to Com-shuk, believe me when I tell you the answer is '_no'_.'

'You crazy? I'm not giving up my visions,' Doyle paused, 'they're our entire mission,' he finished up. He shook his head to himself, he was sure he would have one any day now - The Powers couldn't have abandoned him, he just had to stop everyone from finding out he was having a dry spell.

Wesley smirked into the phone, 'that isn't precisely what I meant,' he said, 'but it's as good a reason as any.'

'Right - well - speakin' o' the visions…'

'Let me guess - you have us hopping again?'

'Uhuh - I saw… I saw … you know Madam Dorion's the -uh - the…'

'Demon brothel?' Wesley finished his sentence for him, 'yes, I remember it.'

'Well - I ...saw it.'

The watcher raised an eyebrow, 'I shudder to think what that entailed … what's the trouble?'

'Well - I wasn't sure - I just … gotta feelin' - danger. Somethin' bad is goin' down there. Anyway - I was about to ring y' when I got a phone call of my own. You remember David Nabbit?'

'The billionaire? Yes.'

'Well - guess who's bein' blackmailed again?'

Wesley sighed, 'he really doesn't learn, does he?'

'He really doesn't … he rang - he rang the hotel. But they're not answerin'. He said the machine said they were all outta town for a couple o' days. So he tried all the cells - I was the first to answer - 'cause...'

'You're not in the family anymore.'

There was a moment of quiet. 'Yeah,' Doyle said, his voice heavy. 'He wants our help, again. Well, technically - he wants Angel's help - but he's not around. Y' think we should take the case? He's not really our client - it's like we're stealin' him.'

'Yes, we'll bloody take Angel's clients if he's out of town,' the watcher said to him. 'Ring Nabbit and tell him so, I'll meet you at Madam Dorion's in an hour.' He clicked the button and returned to his phone call to Lilah. 'Sorry, Lilah, midnight might not be … oh you did? That is my favourite pair. Are you sitting at your desk? Take them off. No - not after your meeting. Now. Pretend like you dropped your pencil.' He sat down on the sofa, as he waited for the lawyer to do his bidding. 'Very good - now…'

* * *

'_Cordy,' _Angel breathed into her ear, he kissed her neck and she wrapped her arms around him pulling him closer and nibbling on his ear. '_Angel,_ mmm - that's nice.'

'Yeah?' he began to unbutton her top and kiss even lower, 'how's this?' She moaned again - her fingers entwined in his hair, as he buried his face against her skin and kissed the length of her body. He felt her squirm underneath him, arching her back - pushing herself closer to him… his cell phone began to ring.

'Damnit,' he heard Cordelia mutter, she began to untwist her fingers from his hair, but he pressed another kiss against her mouth, 'I'll ignore it.'

'It make wake Connor,' she whispered back.

'Damnit.' He pulled himself off Cordelia and sat up, answering his phone. '_Hello?'_ He did not sound happy. It was Gunn on the other end - and the street fighter, likewise, did not sound happy. The vampire listened to what he had to say, and then sighed, 'yeah - I'll see you down there.' He hung up and then looked back at Cordelia, reading the unspoken question in her eyes. 'They think … there's something up - with Lorne. They're concerned. They want me to go meet them in the casino. Can you stay here and look after Connor?'

She nodded. He rolled off the sofa and headed for the door. 'Don't be too long,' Cordy called after him, he turned back to look at her. She hadn't bothered to fasten her top up. He gulped - and then, very reluctantly, left the room and headed downstairs.

* * *

Angel found the young couple sitting at the blackjack table. They quickly filled him in on the way Lorne had blanked them - not only ignoring them in the act, whilst he greeted other audience members - but refused to speak to them after the show. 'He didn't miss us,' Fred said, 'he knew we were there. He walked right past us - twice. It was like we were nobody - strangers.'

'This doesn't make sense,' Angel frowned, 'even if he didn't want to make a big deal during the show… he knows we're here by now. Why hasn't he contacted us? Do you have the number you've been calling him on over the summer?' he asked Fred.

'Hey - I didn't think of that - I'll call him - tell him we're here. Maybe he really didn't see us.'

'Yeah - do that.' Angel looked around the casino, whilst the woman fished out her cell phone. He frowned - the people surrounding him were … he couldn't place it, couldn't explain it - but he didn't like it. He watched as a woman, painted green and wearing red horns, walked through the room and approached one of the gamblers.

'She's made up to look like Lorne,' he said to Gunn, 'she's linked to him?'

'Huh - they call 'em the Lornettes - backing dancers.'

'So what's she doing here?'

* * *

The Lornette approached Vivian - the chef of the future Lorne had spoken to during the show. She carried a silver tray, upon which lay a single gambling chip. 'Congratulations,' the Lornette said, handing the chip to Vivian. The chip read 'spin to win' and it shimmered as Vivian held it. The young woman glanced down at it, looking confused. 'I don't understand. I won something?'

'The chance to play our million dollar Spin-To-Win. It's an exclusive game we have here at the casino as a promotion.'

Vivian looked down at the chip in her hand, an excited but disbelieving smile lighting up her face, 'so - I could win a _million dollars_?'

'Could change your life,' the Lornette smiled. 'Just show the man over there your chip and he'll admit you into the game-room.' She pointed towards a curtain pulled across the back of the casino. There was, indeed, a man in a suit stood outside - alongside a life size cardboard cutout of Lorne. Cardboard Lorne carried a martini and had a speech bubble that said 'gotta play to win, pussycats.' Across his chest was an enlarged version of the chip that Vivian held in her hand. She smiled, 'thanks!' and slid off her stool, heading for the game-room.

* * *

'Well - that was frustrating,' Fred said, hanging up her phone, 'I just got Lorne's personal answering service. A very unfriendly man sayin' Lorne can't come to the phone at the moment. He's as hard to get hold of here as he is back in L.A.'

'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to us anymore,' Gunn muttered, 'maybe the showbiz lifestyle went to his head?'

'No way - not Lorne,' Fred frowned.

Angel watched the Lornette walk away, 'I got another idea,' he said to his friends and then went to cut off the path of the green painted woman. 'Excuse me.'

She smiled at him and tried to get by, 'I'm not a waitress, sir.'

'I know. You were in the show - with Lorne.'

'uh -huh.'

'Well, I was wondering,' he took out a piece of paper, 'if you could get this note to him?'

She shook her head, 'I can't do that, sir.'

'It's OK, I'm an old friend of his and he'd want to know I was here. If you give this to him he'll really appreciate it,' he smiled his most flirtatious smile, 'I know I sure would.'

The Lornette blushed beneath her green paint, 'Oh - I'll see what I can do,' she took the note from him and walked away. Angel looked around the casino - once again noticing that something was... off. The people were … it was like they were robots, or something. They sat at their machines, dropping coins into the slots, pulling the levers - over and over - never even a change of expression. The vampire glanced over at the curtained area and made a decision. He pulled out his phone. 'Hey - Cordy - something's up - it's not right here, I need you down here.' Her voice buzzed in his ear, 'you'll just have to bring him down with you.' There was another buzz, 'well, just don't get caught with him - Cordy, get down here, we have a case.'

As he hung up, he felt someone take hold of his elbow. He looked up - two red coated security men were standing either side of him. 'What...?' They tightened their grip and frog marched him through the casino and outside.

...

Fred and Gunn still sat at the blackjack table. 'You think Angel will be able to reach him?' Fred asked.

'If he wants to be reached,' Gunn replied.

'Lorne still cares about us,' she protested, 'I know he does.' She twisted around in her seat and looked behind her, her face screwed up: 'where did Angel, go anyway? He was standing right there.'

* * *

'So, we go to this '_Bel Air', _storm the fortress within and find the treasure which we seek?' The Groosalug asked. He and Doyle were sat in the back of a cab, headed for Madam Dorion's. 'Well,' the half demon told him, 'we don't so much have to storm the place as walk through the door. And by 'seekin'' - we'll mostly be askin' - politely, if they know anythin'. Then - once we got what we're lookin' for, we leave, and David Nabbit writes us a cheque so big it'll make your eyes water.'

'Your method of righting wrongs in this world is indeed, strange … as is your noble steed.' The champion patted the inside of the taxi and looked quizzical.

'Uhm - not a steed - a cab, but it gets us where we're goin' - now, Groo - you gotta remember, when we get there - no swords - and you stay quiet. Let me and Wes do the talkin'.'

'There is but one thing I do not understand.'

'What's that, bud?'

'You told your friend, _Wes_, that The Powers guided you to this place. Forgive me, noble Majesty, but I do not recall you having a vision of such a thing.'

'Uh - it was just a little one - whilst you were investigatin' the concept of running water, in the bathroom. But there's really no need to bring 'em up…' he nodded towards the cab driver - who was pretending not to take any notice of his very strange fare, 'we don't really talk about my visions in public,' the half demon whispered, 'people don't like it.'

'The common masses are envious of your rare and precious gift,' the Groosalug nodded, 'I understand.' He lowered his voice and leaned in towards Doyle, 'I shall be discreet,' he promised.

* * *

'Hey,' Cordelia arrived at the blackjack table, a grumpy and sleepy Connor in her arms. 'So what's the big emergency?' She twisted around, checking the casino for staff, 'I can't really hang around here with a baby in my arms - where's Angel got to?'

* * *

Angel was thrown against the wall and the two security guards laid into him. They punched him repeatedly and then threw him to the floor, kicking him in the ribs. 'You don't go round bothering the girls and getting them to pass notes to the talent - pretty boy,' one of them spat at him, continuing to kick, 'we don't go in for stalkers round here. Don't even think about coming back to this casino, 'cause we're gonna remember your…'

Angel stood up - vamped out.

'...face,' the security guard finished off, staring at him in horror.

'Hey - lemme give you something else to remember me by.' He morphed back into his human face and punched each of the guards, knocking them out cold. Then he straightened his clothes. 'This place was so much friendlier when the mob ran it,' he muttered to himself. He turned and headed back towards the casino - but on the way in, he bumped into a girl just leaving; an empty quarter cup in her hand.

'Sorry,' Angel said - but she didn't even register him and just walked off. He watched her go, realising that this was the woman he had seen enter the mysterious curtained area. She was now robotic and vacant - like all the other patrons. He frowned.

...

Vivian crossed the road. She didn't wait for it to be safe, but instead stepped straight out into the oncoming traffic. A taxi zoomed towards her. Using his vampire speed, Angel dove out into the road and pulled the woman away from the oncoming car. The taxi driver beeped his horn and yelled out of the window at them. Angel ignored him and looked down at the woman, in concern. 'Are you OK?' he asked her.

She looked up at him. 'Fine.' She seemed completely unperturbed by her near death experience.

'Where were you going?' Angel asked.

'I ran out of quarters.' She raised the empty cup to show him. Her eyes were blank and her voice a monotone. 'I need more quarters. Have to play to win.'

* * *

'There you are! … what happened to you?' Cordelia's tone changed from pleased to see him to concerned, as she took in the state of him. Angel shrugged, 'got beat up by the security guards and then nearly got hit by a car … something's going on here, something bad.'

The four of them were stood by the blackjack table, Cordelia still kept checking that she wasn't spotted by any staff hanging out in a casino carrying a baby. But no one appeared to be paying the group much attention. In fact - staff seemed to be rather thin on the ground - apart from the security guy stood by the curtains. Mostly, this area of the casino was taken up by slot machines and everyone was sat at a machine, pulling the levers over and over. There didn't seem to be much in the way of staff overlooking them, or cocktail waitresses; it was like the patrons had been left completely to their own devices and they stayed still and quiet, playing the slot machines.

'So - what's up?' she asked, frowning as she watched the gamblers sit silently at their machines. She turned back to her friends, 'is it me - or is nobody else in here talking to each other? Or interacting in any way?'

'It's not just you,' Angel assured her, 'the people here…'

'They're like mindless zombies,' Fred finished up.

Gunn looked around, as well, his face scrunched up. 'You know,' he pointed to a man in a suit sat at a nearby machine, 'that guy was in the audience of Lorne's show. But - he wasn't a zombie then.' He pointed at Vivian, 'that girl too.'

'OK, so what does this mean?' Fred asked, 'Lorne blanks us - like we're nobody - and the people he did talk to are acting like weird automatons.'

'There's something dangerous happening,' Angel surmised, 'Lorne must be caught up in it in someway.'

'He probably blanked you to protect you,' Cordelia guessed, 'stop you from becoming like …' she waved one hand around the room to make her point.

'We need to find out what's going on,' the vampire decided. 'Fred, Gunn - I want you two to find a way to get to Lorne. If he's mixed up in this then he isn't doing it willingly. That means he's in as much danger as the rest of us.'

'Rescue mission,' Gunn nodded, 'can do - but what are you guys gonna do?'

Angel glanced at Cordy, 'we're gonna work out what exactly is going on here in the casino,' he said. They all nodded and then the team went their separate ways.

* * *

Fred and Gunn crept along the corridor outside Lorne's dressing room. They hid around a corner and then peered at the door - noting the two massive security guards stood outside. 'Man - heads of state don't get this much security,' Gunn whispered.

'Kinda lends credence to the whole 'something bad is going on and Lorne is involved against his will' theory, huh?' Fred hissed back.

'So what now?' They looked at each other - and then peered back at the muscle. 'We aint getting past those bruisers without a fight.'

A door, further along the corridor, opened and a Lornette walked out. The two investigators glanced at each other once more - an idea forming…

...

… The Lornette's dressing room door opened again and Fred walked out. She was now clad in the bustier and stockings that the Lornettes wore; she was also painted green and wearing fake red horns. She carried a silver tray with a martini on it and headed towards Lorne's dressing room. She stumbled a little, in her high heels, and struggled to right herself before the guards noticed. Hidden round the corner, Gunn closed his eyes for a moment - praying she could pull this off.

'Whoa - what's this?' the security guard asked her as she approached him, 'he's already had his drink.'

Fred looked startled, she smiled - and giggled nervously - 'uh - yeah - he … did. Right, I-I know.' She struggled to come up with a convincing lie, as the plan seemed to be failing. Gunn watched from around the corner, holding his breath. 'They told me..' her mind was blank, 'I mean, they sent me to…'

But the security guards were beginning to grin. 'Oh I get it - a little pre-show diddle for the green guy, huh?'

'_what?'_ She sounded nervous. She giggled again out of fright. But the guards mistook the source of her nerves. 'Don't be nervous,' one of them told her, 'the demon, he doesn't bite… not with his mouth anyway.'

The guards stepped aside and opened the door. Fred began to walk past them, her heart hammering frantically in her chest. 'Wait a minute,' the second guard stopped her - she came to a halt, trying not to look terrified. Gunn peered round the corner - ready to act. 'You missed a couple of spots on your neck and behind your ear,' the guard said to her, referring to the green pain, 'you might wanna fix that before you go on stage.'

'Oh right,' she gave a high pitched, nervous giggle again, 'cause that - that would have been really embarrassing.' Then she scurried through the door and into the dressing room.

* * *

The taxi pulled up outside Madam Dorion's and Doyle and the Groosalug got out. Doyle paid the driver and then looked around. 'I wouldda thought Wes would be here by now,' he said to the undefeated champion. He frowned, 'somethin' must be holdin' him up.'

'Do you worry that your compatriot is in some mortal danger, himself?' the Groosalug asked him. But Doyle shook his head, 'nah,' he said, 'Wesley has been … distant for a while now. Flakin' out on me, missin' patrol. He's got somethin' goin' on. I don't know what … probably not my business.' He glanced at his watch, 'just as long as it's not another slave girl in the closet,' he muttered to himself.

The Groosalug stared up at the facade of the demon brothel. From the outside it did not look remarkable - it gave no clue as to what lay inside, though it was still very imposing looking. 'What manner of place is this?' he asked. Doyle sighed, 'a very bad place - remember what I said. Don't wander off alone, don't talk to anyone by y'self - y' might get y'self in trouble you can't handle.'

'My sword can handle any situation presented to it,' the Groosalug assured him. Doyle sighed, again. 'Yeah, that's not the weapon I'm worryin' about,' he replied.

* * *

Fred stepped inside the dressing room and looked around nervously. Out of the corner of her eye she saw an empty bottle come swinging through the air - right at her head. She yelled and jumped out of the way, the bottle passing by harmlessly. Lorne staggered, as he missed, and then looked at her. 'Oh - I'm sorry, peach pie - I just thought you might be…'

'One of the people holding you captive?' Fred asked him. He stared at her, 'holding me…' he peered under her makeup and realised who he was looking at. 'Fred? Winifred?' He threw his arms around her in a hug. 'Oh hallelujah! Sweet cheeks - you do not know the hell I've been through.'

Fred looked around his plush dressing room, 'looks hellish,' she said sarcastically, then she turned to face him. 'Lorne - if you're in trouble - why didn't you tell us before now? We could have come sooner.'

'But I did tell you!' Lorne sounded astonished that she didn't know he had been pleading for her help for months. He led her over to the couch and they sat down. 'Every time you called me - I asked about Fluffy.'

'Oh.' She scrunched her face up in confusion, 'I thought you were just using some sort of show business catchphrase that I wasn't hip enough to get. Who's Fluffy?'

'Fluffy. Fluffy the dog. The dog you don't have. The universally recognised code for 'help - they're holding me prisoner'!'

'Ohhhh' Fred's eyes widened in realisation, 'OK - I'm hip now. Who's holding you prisoner?'

It was the creep who owned the casino. Lee DeMarco was his name. He had been a second rate lounge magician - but he had somehow managed to get his hands on something legitimately mystical and was now using Lorne to destroy people's lives.

'How?' Fred asked.

'Well - there's this game …'

* * *

'So… what's the plan, Ace?' Cordelia asked. Angel nodded towards the curtains blocking off the game-room, 'whatever is happening is happening in there - I go in, hit some people, find out what's wrong.'

'Good plan.'

'The simple one's are the best. Wait out here for me.' He headed towards the curtains and barged his way through. The security guard followed him in - telling him he needed to get out. 'This is a private room, sir, by invitation only - you have to leave.' He reached out to grab at the vampire and manhandle him back through the curtains. Angel grabbed his arm and twisted it until it broke. The he dropped the guard to the ground and walked further inside.

There was a game table, with people sitting around it. A roulette wheel was spinning. The game operator looked up at him, 'there's a game in progress, sir, you will have to leave.'

But the owner of the casino - Lee DeMarco - stepped out of the shadows and looked Angel up and down. 'No,' he said to the operator, 'it's alright.'

'Mr. DeMarco - the wheel is already spinning.'

But Lee flipped a chip to Angel, 'let him play.' Angel glanced at the chip in his hand and then put it down on the table, dismissively, 'I'm not here to play games.' He didn't notice, but the chip moved by itself - from the side - until it was lying on a circle, in play. 'I want to know what's happening to the people in this place.'

'I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about,' DeMarco smiled.

'Maybe I can jog your memory with a little…'

He was cut off by the wheel coming to a stop. 'House wins!' the croupier declared, and raked all the chips off the table. Angel's face went blank - expressionless. The operator handed him a cup of quarters, 'compliments of the casino,' he said.

'Try your luck on the slot machines,' Lee suggested.

Angel glanced down at the cup of quarters. He couldn't work out what he was doing here. 'Thanks,' he said blankly, and then stumbled back out through the curtains.


	11. The House Always Wins: Part Three

_Part Three_

'C'mon, Wes,' Doyle muttered under his breath, as he and the Groosalug waited outside the demon brothel, 'this is gettin' embarassin' … hey, how y' doin'?' he gave a nod and a pleasant smile to a woman who walked past him in the street - she looked at him, looked at Madam Dorion's and curled her lip, as if she knew exactly what went on in there and what Doyle was waiting for. 'It's not what you …' he began to say, but she walked off - tutting. 'Man!' The half demon sighed, and checked his watch again. What on earth could be taking Wesley so long?

* * *

The security guards jumped and turned around, as they heard a terrified, high pitched scream emanate from Lorne's dressing room. Fred came running out, wild eyed and shaking. She pushed past them and then came to a stop, leaning against the wall and covering her face with her hands. 'Oh my god!' She looked up at them, 'it was horrible! He attacked me with - uhm - these… laser beams that came out of his … horns.' She put her hands up to her own horns to demonstrate the path of the lasers. 'And then he escaped -' she yelled, 'he's gone!' She pointed a quivering finger in the direction of the door.

But the security guards did not move. 'There's no other way out,' one of them told her.

'Right. No.' Fred's voice was panicked - and it wasn't all acting, ''cause he went through some sort of demon metamorphosis thing and he spit out his entire skeleton like, like…' she mimed a very graphic and violent throwing up and then straightened up. 'Like that. And then he just … he slithered away. Down the drain. In the sink. In the bathroom. Hurry!' She pointed again and this time, panicked by her frantic display, the guards ran into the dressing room. 'Code green, we have a code green,' one of them said into his walkie talkie as he hustled through the door.

Once they guards were inside, headed for the bathroom, Lorne; wearing sunglasses, a trench coat and a trilby; slipped out of the dressing room door. Gunn ran along the hallway to meet up with them 'someone wanna give me the lowdown?' he asked, as Lorne closed the doors and then tied the doorknobs together with the tassles from the curtains. 'Later,' the green demon said, 'suffice it to say we're dead if we don't get our tushes out of dodge.'

'Good enough.'

They ran away down the corridor, able to hear the muffled sound of the guards trying to escape. 'We need the big guns,' Lorne panted, as he ran, 'where's Angel?'

* * *

'_Hello? _Paging Mr. Oblivious.' Cordelia waved a hand in front of Angel's face, but the vampire ignored her. Instead, he sat at the slot machine, fed a quarter into the slot and then pulled the lever. The pictures whirred past and then landed on a bunch of cherries, a diamond and a number seven. Blankly, Angel took another quarter out of his cup, slid it into the machine and pulled the lever once more.

'Angel … what's with …' she sighed and shifted her weight, balancing Connor on her hip, so she had a better grasp of him. 'What happened in there? What happened to our plan of finding out what's up with the spin to win game?'

Angel put in another quarter and pulled the lever again. 'Angel, stop!' Cordelia put her hand out and tried to prevent him from pulling the lever. He turned to stare at her, then, and she saw the blankness of his expression. 'I have to play to win, Cordelia,' he said to her.

'Oh boy,' she sighed in frustration, 'they put the whammy on you! You stink with whammy!' She bit down on her lip and chewed it, as she stared round hopelessly at the rest of the casino. 'So now - in order to save all these nice people - I have to save you, first. Boy, are you ever the most hopeless champion I ever met. Here…' She slid Connor into the vampire's lap. 'I can't go on a rescue mission and baby sit - just - just don't move, OK?'

'OK, Cordelia,' he didn't look up, or glance down at his infant son now balanced on his knee. Staring only at the machine, he pulled the lever again. Cordy sighed, shook her head and then left him to it - going off to find a way to reverse the whammy.

* * *

'Where the hell have you been?' Wesley had finally arrived, and the three men were making their way into the demon brothel. Doyle cast an anxious glance over his shoulder to check that no one he knew could see him. Though he needn't have worried - he knew very few people who lived in or frequented Bel Air.

'There was a telephone call I had to take, it took precedence.'

'Precedence over a case where a _billionaire_ is payin' us to do a bit of leg work for him?'

'Yes.' The watcher's tone brooked no argument and so Doyle had no choice but to let it slide. He shook his head, wondering what it was that was keeping Wesley so busy lately - and so distant.

As they walked inside, they found themselves in a large room, with plush carpets and curtains. There was a tinkling fountain in the middle and all around the edges there were velvet chaise longues with women of varying demonic species draped across them. Doyle could feel the sharp eyes of all the demon women on their little group, as they walked through the room. He swallowed, nervously, and scuffled closer to Wesley. 'Let's just get in and out as fast as we can, yeah?' he muttered.

A middle aged woman in a business suit intercepted them, as they crossed the lobby. She smiled a welcoming smile at them, 'and what can we do for you fine gentlemen today?' she asked, 'what type of morsel can I tempt you with?' she waved her hand to indicate the women.

The Irishman narrowed his eyes, 'that's not what we are here for.'

'We are here on a quest - to right wrongs and seek truths,' the Groosalug said, which made the Madam smile. Doyle gave the champion a look and shook his head, 'what did I say about stayin' quiet?'

'Forgive me, Noble Majesty.' The Groosalug bowed his head to the half demon - who looked embarrassed. Madam Dorion raised an eyebrow.

'We're just here to talk,' Wesley said to the brothel keeper. She raised another eyebrow. 'That isn't our usual line,' she told him.

'No - but I don't believe it is your usual line to have your clients photographed here and then blackmailed afterwards, is it?'

Madam Dorion looked annoyed and sighed, 'blackmailers,' she spat, 'I hate blackmailers. They're so bad for business.'

'Yeah, well - the world is full o' people who do wicked and evil things,' Doyle said to her; he fixed Madam Dorion with a hard stare to make it clear he included her in that. 'But in this case - one such person is gonna give us bushel loads o' cash if we stop another such person and well… a boy's gotta eat. So here we are. Tell us what we wanna know and we'll be on our way.'

'Do you know which girl your client was with?'

'I'm afraid not,' Wesley told her, 'but the client's name is David Nabbit. He's had similar trouble before.'

'And probably will again,' the Irishman muttered.

'Then he'll prove a lucrative meal ticket for you, _Noble Majesty,_' Madam Dorion replied - her tone was passive aggressive and Doyle knew he had pissed her off by intimating that, for all her fancy Bel Air mansion, she was no better than any other pimp that took advantage of vulnerable women with few options. 'You want to speak with Lina,' she said, speaking to Wesley again, 'Nabbit always goes for Lina. Come on - I'll take you to her.'

...

She led them down a hallway and up some wide, elegant stairs. As they passed through the brothel, the Groosalug found himself attracting the attention of the women - many of them blowing kisses at him and waving, as he went past. A couple even began to follow the group. 'That one's a pretty one,' one such demon girl said. She had pale blue skin, pointed ears and electric purple eyes, which glowed as she looked at the undefeated champion. 'Can I have this one, Madam?' She reached out a hand to take hold of Groo, 'I'll show you things you never even imagined,' she said to him.

But Madam Dorion removed her hand from the Groosalug's bulging biceps. 'That's not why he's here, Nadrisa - go back downstairs.' The blue woman stuck out her bottom lip in a pout, but did as she was told.

'You see?' the brothel keeper said to Doyle, quirking an eyebrow at him, 'my girls are happy here, they like their work.'

'Yeah … funny that her enthusiasm for her 'work' didn't stretch to her wantin' anythin' to do with me - or Wes. And I imagine a lot more o' your punters look more like me than they do like the Groosalug… if you're lucky. If I was a payin' client - she'd still have to rustle up that enthusiasm for me though, wouldn't she? Whether she liked it or not. Even if I was 85, with halitosis and the sweats.'

'They understand what their job entails - they accept its terms and conditions,' she said to him, frostily.

'Is that a fact?'

They reached the top of the stairs and began to walk down the corridor. The wallpaper was flocked and there were chandeliers dangling from the ceiling at intervals of several feet. From the rooms lining the hallway, they could hear the sounds of the demon women with their clients.

The Groosalug was staring around, turning his head every time he heard a new guttural moan or pleasured whimper. 'The women who serve this place - they are concubines?' he realised. Doyle nodded. 'Is this the place where you found your own Chosen Consort, Noble Majesty?'

'_What?_ No! I met Cordy through Angel. I would _never_ use a place like this.'

'My my my,' Madam Dorion muttered to herself, as she led them down the thickly carpeted passage, 'isn't the boot on the other foot for Mr. High and Mighty, now?'

'The Groosalug is from a different dimension,' The Irishman snapped, 'turns out I'm the prophesied King of his land. Hence the 'Noble Majesty' stuff. There was a … misunderstanding about my girlfriend. That's all. No funny business...' He trailed off, as he was distracted by a low, tinkling laugh. The door to the nearest room swung open and the whole little group were able to see inside.

The room was lit red and was mostly taken up by a gigantic bed. A man and a woman were bouncing up and down on it - fighting with their pillows. But they were moving in slow motion. As the group watched, the woman's pillow split and a shower of feathers cascaded across the room - impossibly slowly; defying gravity, as they hung in the air.

'The room is enchanted,' Madam Dorion told them.

'You don't say,' Doyle said, staring as the feathers drifted with glacial slowness to the floor.

'Everything that happens in there: every touch; every emotion; every desire - is extended for maximum pleasure.' She looked sidewards at the Irishman, 'perhaps you would like to bring your own concubine - sorry 'chosen consort' here. You could do with lightening up. I can check the schedule for you - experience sensuality that seems to last a lifetime.'

Doyle realised he had been holding his breath, he ripped his eyes away from the door and looked at the Madam. 'Girlfriend,' he repeated. 'She was my girlfriend - nothin' else. And she would hate to come to a place like this, almost as much as I would hate to bring her.'

'Alas his chosen consort loves him no longer,' the Groosalug explained to Madam Dorion, helpfully, 'she has long since chosen to be without her King.'

'Thanks, bud.'

Madam Dorion snickered softly, 'that explains a lot - you do seem like someone in desperate need of... _releasing some tension_.'

Doyle glared at her. 'Just take us to the girl who was with Nabbit,' he snapped.

The woman smirked, 'this way.'

* * *

Another woman came stumbling out from behind the curtains, clutching a cup of quarters; her face was blank. 'Right,' Cordelia breathed to herself, 'the game's just finished…' She glanced around and then snuck behind the curtain. The place was deserted - but the gaming table was still there. She began to examine it, trying to work out the rules - and how it managed to turn normal people into mindless zombies.

'So… I'm guessing they spin this wheel,' she muttered to herself, spinning the roulette wheel with her hand, 'and whatever the ball lands on wins.' She looked at the table itself - noting the circles. 'And I guess the gamblers choose a circle and put a chip on it.' She snorted, 'I'm guessing not many of them win. But what happens next?'

The door at the back opened suddenly and, with a gasp, Cordelia ducked down so she couldn't be seen. The croupier came out of the backroom and started setting up for the next game. Cordelia crawled her way towards that door - holding her breath as she did. As she reached the door, the croupier sneezed - and she seized her chance to use the moment of his distraction to nip inside.

She found herself in a back room. She looked around - the room was crowded, but fortunately everyone was too busy to notice her sudden appearance. She pressed herself against the wall, lurking behind a large potted plant and tried to look inconspicuous. From her vantage point, she peered between the leaves and took stock of the situation.

At first, she had thought she must have found herself in the control room for security; there were many monitors on the wall showing the CCTV footage of the gamblers out in the casino. But there were also numerous desks - and people sitting at them speaking in the phones. On the wall there was a scrolling message board - like a stock ticker - with red words moving across. '_Two term senatorship: Nevada' _Cordelia read, '_Pulitzer prize winner… _what?'

'Sir, you need to see this.' A big goon with a gun came in, holding what looked like stock. Cordelia jumped, behind her pot plant - surprised - but managed to get a hold of herself. The goon walked up to a small man, with thinning hair - showing him the stock. 'This is what we got from our party crasher - the demon's friend.'

Lee DeMarco took the report and glanced at it. 'A vampire?'

'With a soul.'

'_Angel,_' Cordelia breathed.

'Well, now,' Lee said to the goon, 'this is interesting.'

'Yes, sir - amongst other things he's supposed to be a major player in the apocalypse.'

'That's not a surprise - look at this,' Lee pointed to something in the report. The goon squinted to read it. 'He's the lover of a vampire slayer?'

'_Was,' _Lee chuckled, 'everything's past tense now.' Then he became all business like. 'Have our brokers get the word out on this and - uh - you might wanna put a call in to that weirdo law firm in L.A.'

* * *

Fred, Gunn and Lorne hurried through the casino, ignoring the bright lights and loud noises, focused only on finding Angel and getting out of there. Fred wiped the green makeup from her face, as she walked. Eventually they located the vampire sitting, zombie like, at one of the slot machines - feeding it quarters. Connor was balanced on his knee, but he paid no attention to his son.

'Angel, where you been?' Gunn asked him. Angel didn't look up from the machine. 'Here.' His voice was calm and blank - he sounded distant. 'I was there before,' he pointed to the machine beside of him, but again without looking up, 'and now I'm here.

Lorne was scanning the casino. He spotted some security goons headed their way - talking into their walkie talkies. 'I think we got company coming, kids,' he warned, 'and I don't mean my Aunt Gert.'

'Look,' Gunn kept his voice hurried and low as he spoke to the distracted vampire, 'there's big bad going down. We gotta get Lorne outta here. Think you can slow 'em down?'

Angel glanced at Gunn. 'OK.' Then he looked back at his game.

'Gimme your car keys,'

Without looking up again, Angel dug in his pocket and handed the keys to the Plymouth over to the streetfighter. 'Hold 'em off as long as you can,' Gunn said to him, 'I'll swing the car around to the end of the block, pick you up in front of the Nugget, OK?'

'OK,' he put another quarter into the slot. His three friends began to hurry away. 'Good luck,' Angel said, still staring at his machine. He stood up … and then sat back down in front of the next machine. He put his coin in the slot and pulled the lever.

* * *

Madam Dorion eased open one of the doors … inside, the three men could see a man - a human - wearing a dress shirt and pants, chained to the wall. 'Oh - hello,' the man said to them. With a snarl, the Groosalug raised his sword, dashed into the room, and began hacking at the chains with his blade. 'Fear not, friend, we are here to save you!'

'Hey!' the man looked startled, 'get off.'

Madam Dorion stared at Doyle and Wesley, 'can you call your gung ho friend off, please?' she asked, 'he's upsetting the regulars.'

'Groosalug - leave the nice gentleman alone!' Wesley called to the undefeated champion

'He is a slave!'

'Don't judge me,' the man snapped.

'Groo, bud, just back off - yeah? We're not here to rescue him.'

The Groosalug looked put out, but he nodded and stepped back, 'as his Noble Majesty wishes.' He nodded his head to the chained up man, 'my apologies, slave.'

'Dorion…' the man started to complain to the brothel keeper. But she shook her head. 'We'll give you 20% off for the interruption… but I need to borrow Lina, for a second.'

One of the demon women, who had been in the room with the man, headed over to the door. As it closed behind her, the men heard the sound of a whip crack. 'Now I have you all to myself, what will I do with you?' they heard the remaining demon woman say to the chained man. The door clicked shut, blocking out any more sounds, and Lina looked at her boss. 'What's up?' she looked at the Groosalug and began to smile, 'please tell me you want me to take special care of this one?' She began to rub her hand across his bulging biceps. Doyle rolled his eyes and looked away. Wesley cleared his throat. 'We need to talk to you about one of your regulars - David Nabbit,' he said to her. She glanced at her boss again, and Madam Dorion nodded, 'go ahead, Lina - answer their questions.'

...

As Wesley began to question Lina, and the demon woman continued to try and flirt with the Groosalug, Doyle glanced around. He felt … funny. Like there was a strange feeling inside of him - telling him he needed to go somewhere or be somewhere or … The last time he had felt this way had been over two years ago, underneath Wolfram and Hart, when he had felt the pull of the beacon - calling to him. His destiny was wrapped up in that beacon - it was supposed to have killed him, just like he was supposed to destroy it - and so, when he was close to it, he could feel it inside - every fibre of his being screaming at him to reach out and fulfil his purpose.

The beacon couldn't possibly be here, but the feeling was the same. His every cell was jangling inside of him, telling him his destiny was close by. His demon guide, Skip, had told him that he needed to trust in his own instincts. That he - above all others - was connected to the Powers That Be and could feel their guiding influence. Well, if they were sending him messages - even if it was different to the normal, head cracking, mind splitting migraines they usually used to communicate with him - then he knew better than to ignore them.

As Lina told Wesley what she knew, Doyle began to back away from the group and then, once he had created some distance, turned and walked off in the direction that was calling out to him. The others didn't even seem to notice.

He followed the corridor along to the end, and then - still following nothing but his own instincts - took the next flight of stairs upward. As he reached the top, he had a choice, head down another plush, dimly lit hallway - or follow the stairs higher. He took the stairs. They were narrower now, less fancy. This was not an area the punters were supposed to see. He got to the very top and found a corridor that was much more sterile and businesslike than the lower ones. He followed it until he came to one particular door. Everything inside of him was screaming at him, now, so he put his hand onto the handle and pushed.

* * *

The three of them hurried through the casino. A security guard moved over to intercept them. Gunn punched him in the face, the guard fell to the floor - and the three of them ran to the nearest door.

They came out into a brightly lit shopping centre. Neon lights flashed in every direction; the whole place was crowded with people and Elvis was blasting out _Viva Las Vegas _over a loudspeaker. Gunn looked around at the crush and the din, 'where the hell are we?'

'Wrong exit,' Lorne told him, 'this is Glitter Gulch.'

'Which way's the car?'

Fred twisted around, trying to get her bearings. 'I think it's back this…' she saw some security guards rushing towards them, '...nevermind.' The three of them ducked down low and began to dodge in between the crowds, trying to hide from their pursuers. When it looked like they had lost them they began to run.

'You said this DeMarco guy is destroying lives?' Gunn asked the green demon, 'how?'

'By taking them.'

'Killing people?'

'No - worse.' They came to a stop and Lorne began to explain the racket DeMarco had going on. He used the Host to read members of the audience during his show, looking for those with valuable destinies: power, wealth, fame - whatever looked good. The ones Lorne tapped would then be 'chosen' to play the game - 'Spin to Win' - except it wasn't a game. Their destiny would be imprinted on the chip - and the wheel was tricked out to never play off. The house always won - and everybody else lost. Everything. Their futures, their destinies. These were then offered up on an extremely black global market to anyone who felt like changing their own future.

'Futures trading,' Fred said.

'Can't get any more literal than that, crumbcake.'

'What happens to them?' she asked, 'the people?'

'Nothing,' Lorne told her. 'Nothing ever happens to them - or ever will. They've got no purpose, no direction; unable to accomplish or succeed at anything ever again. Most never leave here. Some never even make it out of the casino. They just sit there shovelling coins into slot machines that never pay off, like zombies, like...'

'Angel!' Gunn looked alarmed - as he put two and two together, thinking of his friend's weird and distracted behaviour. 'They got him!'

'Uh oh,' Fred said.

'Yeah - I should say that's a pretty big uh oh.'

'No - not that uh oh,' she corrected - she pointed, 'that uh oh.' Security guards were headed right to them, from every direction. They were trapped. 'What do we do?'

'Now we do that fighting for our lives thing we do,' Gunn told her. Lorne nodded - or he could just … he crossed to a nearby street performer and took their microphone. He sang a very loud, very high pitched note into the mic - until the bulbs on the neon lights smashed and everyone ducked for cover, covering their ears in pain. Then the three of them ran.

* * *

Doyle found himself in an office, he assumed it must be Madam Dorion's own. There was a large desk, with a computer and a pot plant on it - and there were filing cabinets either side of the window.

He was drawn to the left hand side cabinet. He didn't know why, but he wasn't arguing, everything was telling him to open the middle drawer and look through the files there. He pulled it open and began to flick through the manilla folders. He found one that looked like a delivery manifest. He read it and began to frown. Surely this couldn't mean what he thought it meant? Surely not?

* * *

'That was brilliant, Lorne!' Fred gasped, the three of them came to a stop once they thought they were safe. 'I may never hear my upper registers again, but nice work.'

'Right - but what about Angel?' Gunn looked at Lorne, 'did you tell them about him?'

'Of course not! You can't think I'd do that.'

'Well, I don't know why you did it to the rest of them, so…'

'Charles!' Fred admonished, softly.

'No, It's OK,' Lorne said, 'you deserve an explanation. Of course I said no - when they told me what they wanted. And the first time I did, they took one of the girls from my act and shot her brains out, right in front of me. Said that would happen every time I refused.'

Gunn looked at his shoes, 'I'm sorry.'

'No more than I am, slick.'

They headed off to get the car, and drove it back to the Tropicana, hoping they could find Angel, Cordy and Connor.

* * *

Cordelia had snuck out of the back room and crawled through the game room in order to head back to the casino. Her heart hammered in her chest so loud the whole time, she was sure the croupier would hear it - and catch her- but she got out safely. 'OK, now, Cor - think,' she hissed to herself. 'Angel's no good to you if you can't get him off that machine. So you need to get him off - but how? How?' She looked around, scanning the room, hoping for inspiration.

Her eyes fell on a heavy door at the far end of the room. 'The control room,' she said, 'if I can just get in there - maybe I can switch the machines off … but there'll be security, I need a weapon.' She looked around again. Then headed back to Angel.

She found him still at the slots, Connor still on his knee. 'How's it going?' she asked him.

'Good.'

'Well - you can talk at least.'

'Of course I can talk.' He pulled the lever. The pictured spun round - all three different. He took out another quarter. Cordelia eyed it. It had given her an idea. She took Connor's diaper bag from the vampire and emptied it out onto the floor. Angel didn't even look round. Then she grabbed a handful of his quarters and stowed them in the bag. Then she moved on to the next machine - and stole a handful of the next person's quarters. Not enough that they would notice - and get up, or cause a scene. Just a handful. She moved through the machines, stealing fistfuls of quarters from every living zombie she passed, until the diaper bag was full and she was outside the control room. Then she opened the door and stepped inside.

...

A security guard, sat watching the screens, turned and looked at her. 'Hey what are you doing in…' She swung the diaper bag packed with quarters right into his face. He fell to the floor - knocked out, and Cordelia took his place at the screens. 'Right,' she murmured to herself, 'how to shut this all off?'

* * *

They swung the Plymouth to a stop outside of the Tropicana. 'Right,' Gunn said, getting out, 'as soon as I find Angel, I'm bringing him right out. Better keep the engine running in case there's a posse behind us.' He ran off.

Fred looked at Lorne, 'but what about his destiny? Angel's. We can't leave without getting it back.'

'Yeah, well - this is Vegas, sunshine. Generally speaking, you lose here - you don't get it back.'

* * *

Gunn walked through the casino and found Angel still on the slots. 'Angel.'

When the pictures stopped spinning, Angel turned to look at him. His was face still blank and expressionless. 'You - you know who I am, right?' the street fighter asked.

'Gunn.' His voice was equally blank.

'Yeah - and I'm your friend.'

'I know that - I'm not stupid.' He turned back to face the machine.

'Listen - something's happened to you.'

'I got two cherries.'

'What?'

The vampire pointed at the pictures, 'I got two cherries. If I get another one, I get my quarter back.'

Gunn took hold of his upper arm and shook it, 'we gotta go.'

'Have to play to win.'

Gripping his arm, Gunn began to walk away, hoping to drag Angel with him. 'Game's over - we're leaving.'

'Actually - you're not.' Gunn turned to face this new voice. It was a security guard, and they had Fred and Lorne in their grip. The street fighter was grabbed, and the three of them were hustled off. Angel remained at the slot machines. When the game finished and he didn't win anything, he moved himself and Connor onto the next machine - completely untroubled by the arrest of his friends.


	12. The House Always Wins: Part Four

_Part Four_

Doyle had taken the delivery manifest out of the file, folded it and put in his pocket. Then he returned the manilla folder to the filing cabinet - and left the room, heading back to Wes and Groo.

'There you are,' Wesley said, when he turned up in the downstairs corridor again, 'where did you go?'

He wasn't free to speak, as Madam Dorion was still there, so he lied - for the time being, 'oh - uhm - bathroom.'

'Right, well - we've got a name.'

'Good - so we can be on our way, then?'

Wesley thanked Madam Dorion for her time and she showed the three men back out, onto the street. 'You know - if you decided to come here for reasons other than information, you'd be more than welcome.' she said to them, 'might change your life.' She shut the door.

'Yeah,' Doyle said, once she was gone, 'with a touch o' demon clap - no thanks.' He turned to Wesley, 'bud, there's somethin' I need to tell y'...'

But the watcher wasn't listening. 'Nabbit's blackmailer is a man named Shane Laughton - bad news, lives near Century City.'

'Upmarket bad news,' Doyle whistled.

'There's a lot of money in blackmailing billionaires. Doyle, I want you to track him down and then Groo should be able to handle the rough stuff. If that's OK?' He turned to the undefeated champion. The Groosalug bowed his head, 'it shall be my honour.'

'What are you gonna do?' Doyle asked.

'There's somewhere I need to be,' Wesley told him - it was getting close to midnight and he had had enough of sleuthing, for the evening. There would be something better waiting for him at home. He began to walk away. Then he stopped and looked back at Doyle, 'you know - I'm a little confused, why would The Powers send you a vision of this case?'

Doyle gulped - but then he thought of his strange feeling of destiny - and the papers he now had hidden in his pocket. 'That's what I wanna talk about - somethin's goin' on that we need to…'

'Tomorrow, OK?' Wesley said, 'whatever it is we can do it after … tomorrow.' He walked off. Doyle watched him leave, shaking his head in frustration.

* * *

Lorne, Fred and Gunn were dragged into the back room, where Lee DeMarco was sat in a big leather, swivel chair; his feet up on his desk. 'Lorne! I'm so relieved!' he greeted the green demon, 'I was afraid that something terrible might have happened to you. Missing your second show like that. All those poor, disappointed people. All I could do was refund their money and comp their rooms for the inconvenience. And my my my what an inconvenience it was for all of us.'

'Yeah, yeah. OK, Lee. OK. White flag's up,' Lorne said to him, 'you got me. Grind your organ. I'll be your monkey.' He leaned down onto the desk and his face became menacing, 'but you'll get nothing from me, if you hurt anyone else, I swear it.'

But Lee was unfazed. 'Lorne, sweetie, you worry too much. I promise you, you will be the only one hurting. Your friends will be dead so quick they won't feel a thing.'

* * *

'Right,' Cordelia breathed to herself, sitting down at the controls and scanning the system, 'I can do this - I can work this…' She glanced up at the monitor and saw Angel, sitting at his slot machine - dropping in quarters and pulling the lever without pause. 'Gotta get him away from that machine…' she muttered, 'but how? - Can I shut it off?'

She pulled up the menu on the computer screen and scrolled through it - heading into the control panel - but there was nothing there that could pull the plug. Switching the machine off would have to be done manually. And there was little chance she'd be able to do that; even if she had three hours and a screwdriver, there was no way she could get the back off the machine and pull the wires out without being spotted. She exhaled, deeply, and drummed her fingers against the desk. 'What to do? what to do? … I wish Doyle was here… _damnit! _No I don't. I can solve this myself.' She clicked through the controls some more.

Running out of ideas, she typed 'central control system' into the search bar. Nothing came up. 'OK OK,' she said. 'Let's try something else … uh … _slot machine control system_.' Nothing. 'Nope - OK - _gaming control system_.' There was a brief pause whilst the computer completed its search - and then a software file flashed up. It read '_server based gaming_' and the word 'gaming' was in bold to highlight that this was maybe pertinent to her search. She shrugged, 'it's the best I got.'

She clicked and opened up the server - and then inhaled sharply, when she saw that she now had access to the internal workings of all the slot machines in the casino. 'Damn I'm good,' she said to herself. She checked the screen to look which machine Angel was currently on and then found its corresponding control system. She clicked through - and frown lines began to form on her forehead, as she worked out what she was looking at. 'RNG' she muttered to herself, '0% - what's RNG?'

She swivelled her chair, so she was facing another computer monitor and connected it to the internet. Then she typed RNG into the search engine and began to read up on it. It stood for 'random number generator' and was a computer chip in each machine that did the calculations and checked the algorithms to decide which combination of pictures to display. The computer chip would then be programmed to decide how often - what percentage of plays - it should give out a win. She frowned deeper, and went back to her original computer. 'They're all programmed to 0%,' she muttered, 'they're tripped out to never pay off.'

But - using the central server - she could change that percentage. She might not be able to switch the machine off, but she could get it to pay out - that oughtta get someone's attention. She glanced at the monitors again - damnit - Angel had switched machines, again. So she was controlling the wrong one. She clicked back and then opened up the controls for Angel's new machine. 'Come on, come on, come on,' she whispered to herself, as she opened up the programming for the RNG.

...

Angel fed a quarter into the slot and pulled the lever. The pictures whirred round - and he watched them, blankly. Connor was fussing on his knee, but he didn't look down - didn't notice. The pictures landed - he had a double diamond, a double diamond and a seven. He put in another quarter and pulled the lever.

...

'Right,' Cordelia breathed, 'just change that zero to a hundred and…'

...

The first double diamond fell into place, the second clunked down next to it. The third double diamond rolled downwards - but then came to a stop - just one notch away from landing and winning.

...

'_Voila'_ Cordy grinned - as she clicked and changed the programming for the computer chip.

...

The third double diamond clunked down into place. A siren, on the top of Angel's machine, began to go off - screeching and flashing red. Quarters began to tumble down out of the machine. A crowd began to gather around the vampire, watching as the money still churned out.

...

'Right, that's got people moving,' Cordelia smiled, looking on the monitor at the people massing around the winning slot machine. 'Let's hope it's enough to get Angel off his butt…' she turned to leave - and the smile died on her face. The - _thing_ \- standing in the doorway was massive, bronze and completely blocking her exit. Her eyes scanned up it's gigantic torso; it was a demon and its very skin seemed to be like plates of armour - forming a hard exo-skeleton. Eventually, she met its red eyes with her own alarmed ones. There was no way past it - and it wasn't looking too friendly...

* * *

Doyle had located Shane Laughton's address - it wasn't hard, he was listed in the phone book - and he and the Groosalug made their way to the blackmailer's apartment.

'Right, this guy is bad news, y' hear?' the Irishman said, as the pair of them padded down the hallway leading to Laughton's home. 'It's OK to hurt him - but he's human, so y' can't kill him. We go in - ask for the photos he took - nice and polite, like, and - when he inevitably refuses - y' punch him. Then keep punchin' him until he gives us what we're lookin' for, understand?'

The Groosalug nodded solemnly. 'I can follow the thrust of your battle plan, Noble Majesty, and shall do as you command.'

'I appreciate it.' They reached the door and Doyle knocked. The door was opened a crack - and a dark pair of eyes peered through, over the chain. 'What do you want?'

'Evenin', bud - we're here to discuss a little - uh - business arrangement you got goin' on at the moment.'

The eyes sized the half demon up, suspiciously, 'not interested,' Laughton said and began to shut the door. 'I wouldn't do that if…' Doyle started to say, but the door was shut in his face. He looked at the Groosalug. 'Kick it down.'

BAM - Laughton looked up in alarm as his door was kicked off its hinges and the Groosalug came storming through, sword at the ready. The undefeated champion grabbed the blackmailer by the collar and slung him against the wall, where he then held him in place with his blade at his throat. 'When his Royal Highness asks you to do something, you do as he wishes or you pay, lowly cow,' Groo snarled. Doyle walked into the room a bit more slowly, his hands in his pockets. 'Y'know - I quite like havin' an attack dog always ready to do my biddin' - makes me feel like a big man. Right - as I was sayin', before you so rudely shut the door on us, bud, I gotta talk to you.'

'What about?' Laughton's voice was high pitched, now, and his eyes were frightened.

'Two words,' Doyle told him, 'David and Nabbit.' He whistled, 'seems like you've been takin' sneaky pictures of him, bud - threatenin' to leak 'em to his stockholders.' He shook his head sadly, 'we can't be havin' that kind o' carry on in a civilised society.'

'I don't know what you're talking about!'

Doyle chuckled, 'well - unless you want my muscular friend's blade to get real intimate with the wall, behind you - I'd revise that position.'

'I'm not saying anything.'

'Hit him.'

The Groosalug swung his massive fist into Laughton's face. The blackmailer's head smacked against the wall behind him, and cracks appeared in the plaster work. 'Ow - Jesus - I think you broke my nose!'

'Right - so you probably can't take another fist to the face - I'll ask again, where are the pictures?'

'I'll - I'll get 'em for you.'

'No - tell me - and I'll get 'em. I think you're pretty good pinned against the wall, right now.'

'Shall I hit him again, Noble Majesty?'

'No, no - let's give him a chance to talk.'

Laughton took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. 'Fine - the pictures are in my dresser - in the bedroom.'

Doyle nodded and, after telling the Groosalug to keep holding the man in place, went to find the photos. He rifled through the drawers until he found what he was looking for and then came back out into the living area. 'This is all of them?' he asked, 'and the negatives? I'd really hate to have to bring Conan the Barbarian back round here to break somethin' else of yours … if I find out you're lyin'...'

'I'm not, I'm not,' the man gasped, 'that's everything. I swear.' Doyle nodded. 'OK then, let tonight be a lesson learned for y' - I don't wanna hear about you pullin' a stunt like this, again.' He slipped the photos into his pocket, 'good doin' business with y' - c'mon, Groo.' The Groosalug removed his sword from the other man's throat and followed the Irishman out of the apartment. Laughton collapsed to the floor, gasping.

'You were great back there, bud, couldn't have done it without y' - I mean, really,' Doyle said, as they headed back down the hallway. 'You were just as good as Angel would've been - better even - y' don't have to hang around waitin' for invites before y' break and enter.'

'It was my pleasure, Highness,' The undefeated champion's handsome face creased into a frown. 'I do not understand why Wesley did not accompany us. He is your leader in this strange world, is he not?'

'Yeah, I guess he is …' it was Doyle's turn to frown, 'I don't know why he didn't come with.'

'He was, perhaps, otherwise occupied.'

'Yeah, but doin' what?'

* * *

'Good day at the office?' Wesley asked - as he entered his apartment and found Lilah waiting inside.

'Well - there was one meeting that had a certain - _frisson_ \- to it.'

He crossed over to her. Pushing her against the wall, he leaned in for a kiss - but then stopped just short of her lips, 'you did as I asked?'

She smirked, 'why don't you check?'

He closed the gap between them and kissed her, deeply, before picking her up and carrying her to the bed.

* * *

Lee nodded to his security guards, 'take them out in the desert and shoot them. Bring the demon, I'd like him to watch.' The guards grabbed hold of Fred and Gunn and began to drag them out of the room and Lee went back to the broker's desk, checking on how their futures tradings were going. He was interrupted by another bodyguard - who wore a very serious expression. 'Mr. DeMarco…'

'Not now, Spencer.'

But Spencer wasn't deterred. 'Sir,' he took a deep breath, 'we have a winner.' The security guards bundling out the team froze - and turned back to watch what was going on.

Lee glanced up at the screen that displayed the slot machines. He saw Angel, sat at his machine - Connor balanced on his knee - staring blankly as the siren went off and the coins gushed out. 'That's impossible,' Lee declared.

'He's won a little over 300 000 dollars,' Spencer told him, gravely, 'and a car.'

'Pretty good haul for someone with no destiny,' Lorne said to DeMarco. The small man looked irritated - flustered - he looked at where the brokers were standing, gawking in amazement at the unprecedented occurrence. He snapped at them to get back to work and then demanded that the vampire be brought into him.

...

Sat by his machine, Angel suddenly felt two sets of hands grab him by the elbows. He turned round and looked - and found two security guards at his side, they lifted him to his feet. A third took Connor. They then began to escort him away from the machines and towards the back rooms. He allowed them to manhandle him, following their lead - docile and unquestioning.

...

He was brought into the backroom - where Lee was pacing up and down in anger. He saw his friends, held in place - just like he was. 'Hi,' he said to them, sounding supremely unconcerned.

Lee went right up to him, so they stood toe to toe, and peered up into his face. 'I want answers,' he snarled, 'and they better be the right ones, or your dead.'

'Uh … I know this room,' Angel sounded confused - but still devoid of any deeper emotion. Spencer punched him in the face. He didn't react.

'I'll start again,' Lee said - his voice still furious, 'how did you win on the slot machine?'

'I put a quarter in the slot, and a pulled the little lever.' He mimed pulling a lever - demonstrating his winning tactic. That just worked to rile DeMarco up even more. 'Are you playing games with me, vampire?'

'Gotta play to win.' Angel's voice was deadly serious. Lee rolled his eyes and stepped back, satisfied. 'It was a fluke,' he pronounced, 'a glitch in the machine. There's nothing there. Pay him his winnings - in quarters - and take the others on their desert tour.' He headed back to his desk and the security guards who held the others began to bundle them out of the door. The one holding Gunn pushed him and then, when he didn't move, punched him in the face.

'Leave him alone!' Fred cried, struggling against her own captor, who pulled out his gun and stuck it in her face. Angel watched the whole thing - his face vamped out. With a growl, he launched himself at the guards and began to beat them - throwing punches and knocking them to the ground. Seizing his chance, Gunn joined in - getting his own back on the man who had punched him, earlier. Even Fred was throwing punches. The security guards were getting knocked down. The brokers - and the guard holding Connor - all scrabbled out of the way of the fray.

'What am I paying you for?' yelled Lee at his guards, 'shoot them.'

One took out his gun and fired it off, but managed to hit Spencer instead. Spencer fell to the floor. In all the ruckus, Lorne grabbed a billy club from one of the guards and hit him over the head with it. The guard fell to the floor - and Lorne was then able to see what he had been blocking - the mystical item that had brought Lee DeMarco all this wealth and power. It looked like a large crystal ball - but it glowed with a golden light inside. It was sat on a pedestal. Lorne made his way towards it - club raised.

Suddenly, Lee was in front of him. He flung out his arms to protect the mystical whoosit. 'Wait!' he cried out, 'no - no! Maybe I went about all this wrong. We can still come to terms, right, kid? I mean, it wasn't all bad here, I mean not - not all the time. What's it gonna take? A bigger suite? Fewer shows?' He smiled, pleadingly, up at the green demon. 'You got it - whaddaya say?'

'Duck,' Lorne replied - and swung the club. Lee screeched and hit the floor - and Lorne swung the baton into the crystal ball, smashing it into a thousand pieces. The golden light began to swirl and then dissipate - flying round the room and then out into the casino.

...

Each chink of light swirled around the room until it found the person it was destined for. It then hit them - entering them - and, slowly, each mindless zombie came back round. A stream of gold hit Vivian directly in the back. For a moment her hair blew back and she gasped - and then it was like she was waking from a deep sleep. She shook herself and began to smile.

...

In the back room - Angel's ray of light hit him. He blinked - and then began to smile, nodding his head. 'This room - there's something familiar.'

Gunn stepped towards him - looking concerned but hopeful, 'Angel?'

'You're my friend, I know, I'm not stupid.'

* * *

The four of them left the Tropicana, headed for the car, Angel now carrying Connor. He was grinning down at his son and playing with his tiny fists, 'that's my guy - that's my guy.' He came to a sudden halt. 'Now I remember that room!' The rest of his friends turned and looked at him, expectant. 'Elvis and Priscilla's wedding reception,' he told them, sounding triumphant. 'Yes! Of course, I wasn't really invited. They just put me near the dais. I think somebody thought I was in the band. Probably because I was all drunk and surly.' He began to chuckle. His friends rolled their eyes and continued walking. 'They had these little fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches…' the vampire reminisced.

'Hey - memory lane boy,' Gunn interrupted him, 'we're ready to get outta this place - just ring Cordy and tell her to get down here.' He suddenly looked confused, 'where'd she get to anyway?'

Angel fished in his pocket and took out his cell. He dialled Cordelia and pressed the phone to his ear. 'She's not picking up…' he said after a while, 'should I leave her a …'

'Hold on,' Fred held her hand up for quiet, 'do you guys all hear that?' They all strained to listen - there was the quiet but distinct sound of a ringing telephone coming from round the back of the casino.

'You don't think…' Fred sounded troubled, but this time it was Angel that hushed her. He sniffed the air. 'What is it?' Gunn asked, sounding concerned.

'Blood.'

They followed the sound of the ringing and it took them to the alleyway at the back of the Tropicana - the kind of exit Elvis would have used to duck out of the building without being seen. They came to a stop. There - lying face down, her purse beside her - complete with ringing cell phone - and the back of her head staved in, was Cordelia...

* * *

Doyle sat on his bed at the motel - he had paid for Groo to have his own room and so was mercifully alone - and looked over the paperwork he had stolen from Madam Dorion's. He frowned and poured himself a whisky. The first sheet was a receipt - but the item bought was a demon woman, delivered to the brothel all the way from Russia.

The next sheet was an invoice - charging Dorion for a delivery not yet made. This was for a demon woman of a species indigenous to Florida. And, according to the paperwork, delivery was expected to take place in a couple of days' time.

Doyle frowned again. Dorion wasn't just encouraging local demon women to come and work for her - and paying them well to do so - she was buying women from traders, on the black market, having them brought to her against their will. She was trafficking.

He would have to tell Wesley - they would have to put a stop to this. Put Dorion out of business - rescue these demon women. With Groo on their side, it should be easy enough work … but Wesley was always so distant, these days. He always seemed to have something better to do - somewhere else he needed to be. Well - whatever his big important secret was - it was going to have to go on hold. Doyle would tell his boss what he had discovered, tomorrow - and he wouldn't leave him alone until they had sorted it.

He drained his whisky and switched his light off. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

* * *

Angel and Lorne sat at Cordelia's bedside. Fred and Gunn had taken Connor and found a nearby hotel. Now the two demons kept vigil by the unconscious woman. She was hooked up to machines, which kept beeping. The doctors seemed to think she would be OK - that she would wake up and everything would be fine … but it was still a tense wait. The fluorescent light flickered, overhead. 'I hate hospitals,' Angel said quietly, gripping Cordelia's hand. 'I hadn't realised just how hard Cordy worked to keep us all away from these places - but when it's her that's injured …'

'The physician can hardly heal herself,' Lorne finished up.

'Yeah,' his voice was soft. He reached out and stroked Cordelia's short hair, The blonde was growing out of it now, and it had grown into a short bob, which framed her beautiful face, perfectly. 'How did she end up this way?' the vampire asked, 'what can have happened to her? I don't understand.'

'That was a dangerous place, my friend,' Lorne said to him, 'people willing to do a lot of damage. And, if I know our Cordelia, she will have been doing something terribly dangerous - and terribly brave - to try and help you.'

'Sounds like Cordy,' he went back to gripping her hand in both of his. 'You know - there's something else I don't understand,' he said after a while. 'How was I able to win that money tonight?'

'Maybe Lee was right, glitch in the machine? Or Lady Luck was just smiling down on you.'

'I don't know about that,' he stared deeply into Cordelia's pale face, 'she seems to have been absent where it really mattered.' He looked back at Lorne. 'Why was I able to fight, when I had no reason to? No destiny.'

The green demon smiled at him, comfortingly, 'well, even without a flight plan, bucko, you're still a stealth bomber. You were fighting for your friend's futures. Not to mention Connor's. The people you love are part of your destiny - and nobody can take that away from you, not even you.'

'I guess,' he looked down at Cordy, once more, 'I know where my destiny was headed tonight, but now - after this…'

'She'll wake up. Her time isn't done with us, yet.'

'Did you read that?'

'I know it. Can I get you anything? A coffee?'

Angel sighed, and then nodded, 'yeah - I'm gonna be here all night by the looks of it - a coffee would be great, thanks.'

Lorne got up and left the room - headed for the vending machine. Angel watched Cordelia. Her eyelashes fluttered. He stared. They fluttered again. 'Cordy?' he whispered, not daring to believe.

Slowly - reluctantly - she blinked her eyes and then opened them. She looked up into Angel's face. He gripped her hand and smiled down at her. 'Hey,' he said softly, 'welcome back. How are you feeling?'

She blinked a few more times, groaned and then stared at Angel, at the place he was holding her hand and then into his eyes. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. 'Who _are_ you?' she asked.

* * *

**A/N Next episode is 'Slouching Towards Bethlehem.' **


	13. Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Part One

**Slouching Towards Bethlehem**

_Part One_

She woke up - her eyes felt heavy and her head was throbbing - there was somebody holding her hand. She stiffened up. 'Hey,' a voice said to her, 'welcome back. How are you feeling?' She blinked a few more times, her head felt like it was weighed down with bricks - and the pounding only intensified when she rolled it on the pillow to look at whoever was speaking to her. She groaned - and stared at her hand clasped between two hands, which belonged to someone else. She looked up into the person's face - and stared, blankly. He was smiling down at her but … she screwed her face up in confusion. 'Who _are_ you?'

* * *

'It's not a secret,' Lilah murmured. She and Wesley were in bed - Wes held her in his arms and she lay her head against his bare chest. 'What isn't a secret?' he asked.

'Us. The firm knows that we're … doing this,' she traced her fingers across his skin, as she spoke. He glanced down at her, a slight frown on his face - and then stared back up at the ceiling. 'Isn't that their job?' he asked. 'To know this sort of thing? The sordid details of their employees lives.'

'Mm - yeah, I just thought I should tell you.' Then she propped herself up on one elbow. 'Sordid,' she repeated, smiling, 'rrrow.' She kissed him. 'Angel knows too.'

There was a moment of silence. 'I no longer work for Angel,' Wesley said, finally. 'And I couldn't care less what he thinks.'

'Faker,' she laughed, 'that's what you said when he was sleeping with the fishes - and look how that turned out.' She snuggled against his chest again and closed her eyes.

'That was different. So Angel knows about our relationship?' Beside him, Lilah's eyes flashed open. 'Big deal,' he finished up. But Lilah was sitting up - wide awake, she climbed on top of him, straddling him, 'A dollar,' she laughed in delight, rubbing her hands up and down his chest, 'you owe me a dollar.'

'Damn!'

'You called this a relationship!' She kissed him on the forehead and her voice became a sing song, 'you lost the bet, you said it first!'

Wesley grabbed his wallet from the side and fished out a dollar bill, handing it to her. 'Sign it first,' she told him, 'as proof.'

'Proof of what?'

'Of now. Of this.' She leaned forward and nuzzled his nose with her own, and then pressed her lips to his.

* * *

'You - you don't know me?' Angel dropped Cordelia's hand and stared down at her in dismay, 'Cordelia - you've had a head injury. Maybe … I think … I'll call a doctor.'

'Wait!' He had got to his feet, but at her words he turned back and looked at her. 'You know me?' she asked, sounding unsure, 'we - know each other? You and me?'

'Yes … very well.'

'OK - um - who am I?'

He went back to her side and sat down, again. 'Who are you? Cordelia … what can you remember?'

She wrinkled her face up as she thought, 'um - I don't know… I know numbers, animals, flossing...'

'But not me?'

'And not me.' Her voice was small and scared, 'I don't remember me.'

'Well - don't panic,' he tried to reassure here, 'you're in hospital - this is a great hospital - and, you had a head injury, so a little confusion is … nothing unexpected. I'll just call the doctor and…'

'Here we go, crumbcake - mocca late - I thought a bit of sugar might cheer you up …' Lorne burst through the door, carrying the coffees. Cordelia stared at him for a moment - taking in his green skin and horns - and then began to scream.

Angel leapt to his feet and rushed over to where Lorne stood - and bundled him back out of the door, 'wait out there,' he snapped at the very confused demon.

'What? What?' Cordelia was panting - and pointing a trembling finger at the doorway, Lorne was still visible through the open door - standing just outside in the waiting room; clutching his coffees and looking bewildered. Angel slammed the door closed, blocking him from view. 'It's nothing,' he told the freaked out woman, 'that's just our buddy, Lorne.'

'His skin… his …'

'S'just paint,' Angel assured her, 'makeup. We came to Vegas to visit our old pal Lorne 'cause he has a show here, at the Tropicana. They call him the 'green velvet fog' and he has all these dancing girls that are painted green - it's real swell. We were gonna go watch the show, but…'

'I got hit in the head?' her breaths were coming out deep and ragged - but she seemed to be calming down.

'Right,' Angel pointed at her - accepting her version of events, 'exactly - you got injured and we all came to the hospital, instead. So here we are. Nothing to … freak out about.'

'It's just makeup,' she breathed to herself, then she shook her head, 'of course it is - ' she chuckled as if she were being stupid, 'what else could it be? I should probably apologise to him, huh?'

'I think he'll understand - listen - I really need to get a doctor in here. If you have amnesia or concussion - the medicos need to know. Will you be OK if I…?' he stumbled backwards towards the door, 'I'll get Lorne to sit with you - if you're OK with that?' She nodded and he tumbled through the doorway, closing it behind him.

Lorne was waiting on the other side. The vampire grabbed him, 'she's lost her memory - doesn't know who we are or who she is. I told her you're wearing makeup. Go with it - no funny stuff,' he shoved the demon through the door and then went to go and find the doctor.

Lorne entered the room and sat down in the chair Angel had just vacated, 'hey, Cara Mia - I hear there's a problem with your noggin.'

Cordy looked abashed, she brought her hand up to her head and pushed her hair back from her brow, 'sorry about the screaming, earlier - you must think I'm a world class dork - forgetting who you are and not realising you're in makeup.'

'Well,' he smiled awkwardly, 'my makeup girls are really good - it's pretty convincing - has everyone on The Strip fooled.'

'Oh please!' Cordy snorted, 'realistic? Those horns?'

Lorne's brow lowered, 'hey!'

'Sorry,' her voice was croaky, 'I'm just loopy - don't who I am, who you are - who that intense guy with the sticky up hair is.' Tears shone in her eyes for a moment, and she fought to blink them back, 'it's crazy - freaky. I don't like it.'

'Well, intense guy - we call him Angel - is getting you a doctor and soon enough we'll be able to work through all this. You'll be yourself in no time.'

'Yeah - but who is that?'

* * *

About an hour later, Angel and Lorne arrived at the motel Fred and Gunn had checked into. Angel went immediately to Connor, picking him up and holding him close, as he slept. Fred glanced at him and then looked to Lorne, 'how's Cordy?' she asked in a hushed whisper. Angel's actions did not give her hope that the news was good.

Quietly, Lorne filled the woman and her boyfriend in - Cordelia had lost her memory. When the doctor had arrived, he had made her stick out her tongue and shined a light in her eyes; checking her pupils for responsiveness. Everything seemed normal. He had asked some basic questions. Cordelia knew how many fingers and toes, she knew who was president, she could sing her alphabet … there was just a great, sucking black hole where her friends and family - and herself - should be.

'I guess them knocking her out affected … something,' Lorne said heavily, 'the hospital wants to keep her in overnight for observations, they'll do tests - an x-ray on her skull, check for bleeding. But if there was nothing physically wrong with her …' he shook his head, 'the doctor thinks it might help her remember if she's closer to home, surrounded by her own things. If the tests are clear, then they'll release her in the morning - transfer her records to county hospital in L.A and…'

'Wash their hands of her,' Angel finished up, coming back to the group - having put Connor back in his crib. 'In the meantime - we got real problems.'

'How's that?' Gunn asked.

'Cordy's lost all her personal information,' Angel said to him, 'including what she does for a living and … what she deals with on a day to day basis.'

'Amnesiac Cordy doesn't know demons are real,' Lorne supplied, 'and she ragged on my horns.'

'So…' Fred glanced between the men, 'do we tell her? I mean we can only keep somethin' like this a secret for so long, right? We do live in a world of demons and icky things. She's bound to find out. We should probably...'

'What? Show her the books? Take her out on patrol?' Angel shook his head, 'she was power freaked when she saw Lorne, she isn't going to take this information well. We gotta - we gotta find a way to work up to that, break it to her gently.'

'You want us to hide what Angel Investigations does?' Gunn sounded incredulous, 'for how long, man?'

'If she doesn't get her memory back - then as long as it takes for her to settle in, to trust us, to get to know us again,' Angel decided. 'I want her to remember who I am before I freak her out with the whole undead, drinks blood part of my resume.'

'Are you sure that's the best path?' Lorne asked, 'this is about what's best for Cordy - not for you,' his voice was gentle, 'that girl feels all alone in the world right now. If she thinks she can't trust us … you might end up pushing her even further away.'

'I know,' Angel sighed, and sat down heavily. 'We were - everything was just getting on track. We were just getting to where we supposed to be before Holtz sunk me to the bottom of the ocean and now…' he shook his head, 'it's like some force in the universe always steps in and takes things away just as they're getting really good.'

* * *

Doyle lay wide awake, in the early morning hours. It was still dark out, but a little grey was beginning to bleed into the black. Within a few hours that would all have drained away and the sky would be a brilliant azure blue - the way it always was here. If he was at home, this time of year, the grey would stick around all day until the black came back. He really didn't understand why so many vampires were drawn to California - it seemed counter-intuitive. They should be in Ireland - and Britain. Those Isles should be teeming with the undead, they so rarely got direct light enough to write home about. But it was just one of those puzzles of the world of the weird.

He rolled over to look at the clock and then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be until he could feasibly go and see Wesley. He needed to tell him about the paperwork he had found at Madam Dorion's - about the demon woman who had been trafficked and who would be delivered there tonight.

It was a good job he had lied about having that vision, he thought to himself. He rolled over and punched his pillow. He could pass this off as the danger he had been warned about - and tell Wes that it was The Powers who had directed him to the office, and let him find the files. But, of course - he punched the pillow again - that wasn't exactly how it had happened.

Not only was he now nearly five months without a vision, but he had been pulled towards that office by a sense of destiny that he couldn't describe - couldn't understand. It was just like every cell in his body was telling him where to go - jangling hot and cold as he got closer to his goal. He had only ever felt that pull once before - and that was when he had come face to face with his own rewritten destiny, The Scourge's Beacon, and had to smash it; fulfilling his true purpose on this earth.

He couldn't see how this was the same - though it felt the same. He had known about the beacon, known he was looking for it, even known it was him that was meant to destroy it. He had recently been made to watch events as they were supposed to have gone down - and if he never had to watch his own face melt off, again, he certainly wouldn't be complaining.

But this feeling of destiny - pulling him towards the documents, in the brothel keeper's office - had come out of nowhere. He had been lying when he said he had had a vision. They were there purely because David Nabbit couldn't keep it in his trousers - or be discreet about it. The Powers had not sent him to that place and yet … Skip told him that he was connected to The Powers - more so than anyone else, especially after the alternate timeline disaster - when he had had to accept being changed, somehow, in order to return home.

Skip said The Powers spoke to him, through him - and he was supposed to listen - that that would keep him on his true path - and he supposed that that was what had happened last night. But it didn't make sense. He punched the pillow a third time. Why would The Powers speak to him this way - when they were no longer sending him the visions?

He rolled back onto his back and stared unseeingly up at the uneven surface of the motel ceiling. He couldn't ask Wesley for help researching the answers - because he didn't dare admit he was no longer getting the visions. He didn't want anyone to know. If the Powers had abandoned him, decided he was no longer worthy of being their messenger - then he was determined to keep that a secret. But that meant he was all alone in this - and so, unable to share his burdens, he couldn't sleep.

* * *

Angel knocked on the door of Cordelia's hospital room and then entered, she was sitting up in bed. 'Hey,' he said to her, 'how are you feeling this morning?'

'OK - I guess. My head hurts. I don't know who I am. But other than that...'

'Yeah, well - we're gonna do everything we can to help you remember,' he assured her. 'I spoke to the doctor, they said they're ready to release you - we can take you home.'

'Home?' she looked blank. 'Do you know where that is?'

The vampire nodded, 'we'll get you there…' then he opened the door a bit wider and pulled Fred inside the room. 'This is Fred,' he told her, 'you and her are great friends, she's just - just - gonna help you get ready, while I go speak to the doctor about what we need to do. OK?'

'Hi!' Fred gave Cordelia her biggest, sweetest smile and waved her hand. 'I'm Fred - I know you don't know me but you do know me - if that makes sense.'

'Take care of her,' Angel said, softly, before slipping out of the door and going to speak to the doctor.

* * *

Doyle had given up attempting to sleep at half six. He got up, showered and dressed, and then went to knock on the Groosalug's motel room door. The undefeated warrior opened his door with his sword raised - but then lowered it when he saw who it was. 'Forgive me, Majesty, I was not sure whether to expect friend or foe in this strange world.'

'In my vast experience of havin' guys who wanna hurt me turn up at my door - as a general rule, bud, foes don't tend to knock. Anyway - put that thing down, y' can't walk through the streets of the city with that - not in the mornin', anyway. We're goin' to breakfast.'

...

He took the Groosalug to the nearby diner and slid into the corner booth that had become his regular spot over the past few months. The undefeated champion sat down opposite him - and stared around. 'This is indeed a strange place,' he said.

'It's not bad food and it's cheap,' Doyle said to him, 'here - menu.' He handed over the laminated blue card that listed the breakfast dishes. Groo took it. 'Men you?'

'Uhuh - tells you what they're servin' - take your pick.'

The Groosalug's handsome face wrinkled up as he studied the menu. 'What are 'breakfast potatoes'?'

'Um - they're diced - and they have herbs on 'em.'

'I see - and what are this form of nourishment they call 'grits'?'

Doyle sighed. 'Groo - just choose somethin' that you know what it is.'

The Groosalug read some more. 'Oh - surely I shall choose this - the omelette of champions.' It was Doyle's turn to squint down at the menu - it was a 5 egg omelette with bacon, cheese, mushrooms and sausage cooked into it - and with hash browns on the side. 'Hmm - that's … a lot of calories, but OK.' He signalled for the waitress to come over and ordered two coffees, Groo's omelette and poached eggs on toast for himself.

'So - what quest do we embark on this morn?' The Groosalug asked, once the food arrived. 'Surely this is a day when we can do much good?'

'I really hope so, bud,' Doyle replied, 'we got a job to do - we need to see Wesley when we're finished up here.'

'Will you ask him why he did not accompany us on our mission, last night?'

The half demon thought about it - and then shook his head. 'No,' he said, 'he won't give me a straight answer, and we got more important things to be thinking about today.'

* * *

Fred led the newly dressed and discharged Cordelia down into the underground parking lot beneath the hospital. There, they found the Plymouth parked up - Gunn sat at the wheel. Lorne was in the back seat, cradling Connor in his arms. Cordelia hesitated - coming to a stop as she saw the green skinned man, the baby and the stranger driving the car. 'What's …?' she waved her arm to encompass the inhabitants of the convertible.

'Oh,' Fred gave an awkward smile, 'this is just Charles, my boyfriend.' Gunn waved at the amnesiac woman, 'hey, Cordy - glad to see you up and about again.'

'Hey… Charles.'

'Gunn.' He corrected her.

'Where?' She looked around terrified. Gunn chuckled - and then looked abashed, 'sorry, I mean - it's my name. Charles Gunn - two ns. Only Fred calls me Charles.'

'Oh,' her expression was still startled - and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

'Why don't we both sit up front?' Fred suggested - opening the passenger door and ushering Cordelia inside, before squeezing in next to her. Cordelia twisted in her seat, 'oh - um - this is cosy - uh - why don't I just sit in the back … with the green guy … and his baby?'

'Not my baby, Cara Mia,' Lorne smiled at her.

'That would be mine,' a voice piped up from the footwell of the backseat. Cordelia looked even more surprised. 'Angel's allergic to sunlight,' Gunn said to her, using the half truth they had devised back in the hotel, 'he does daytime road trips on the floor with a blanket over his head.'

'Wouldn't it just be easier to stick him in the trunk?' Cordy asked.

There was a quiet moment, as Gunn considered it. But then he shook his head and took the car out of park. 'Next stop - L.A.'

'So … why is that guy still green?' Cordelia hissed to Fred, as they drove out of the parking lot.

'Oh … um …' Fred stammered, 'I guess … I guess he just likes it. Big attention seeker. Big.'

The other woman twisted to squint at the man hidden by the blanket, 'I don't think he's the only big attention seeker round here,' she murmured.

* * *

When Wesley opened the door, he was wearing very little - just his boxers and a shirt that lay open, exposing his chest. 'You're early,' he said to Doyle, by way of greeting. The half demon looked him up and down, 'yeah - I can see you weren't expectin' anyone. But we got trouble.'

The watcher opened his door wider and allowed the two men to step inside. Then he went into the bedroom to put some clothes on. Groo wandered over to a bookshelf and picked up an effigy of the Goddess Hecate, examining it and then replacing it, with a frown on his face. Meanwhile, Doyle had gone into the kitchen area and switched the coffee maker on.

'It troubles me,' the Groosalug said, after a few moments.

'What's that, bud?'

'Wesley is a warrior - your leader - and yet he was not ready and vigilant when we came to call.'

'It's still pretty early. This isn't Pylea, bud - we can lock our doors at night and forget about the nasties. Even warriors don't have to be in an ever ready state of watchfulness, here.'

'Perhaps it is his concubine who prevents him from being watchful.'

Doyle's head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes, 'his _what_?'

Groo sniffed the air, 'his concubine. There has been a woman, here - recently. Within the last hour. They did make the Com-shuk.'

'_What?_ I thought the Com-shuk was a sacred ritual?'

'A most sacred ritual, indeed.'

Wesley walked back into the living area, then, fully clothed. Doyle looked at him, a puzzled expression on his face. 'Wes - have you had a woman here - performin' rituals?'

'It was the Com-shuk,' the undefeated champion insisted.

'What _is _a Com-shuk?' Doyle asked - looking between the two of them, truly bewildered. Wesley cleared his throat, pointedly, 'whatever I choose to do in my own time - with whoever I choose to do it ... is not the reason you are here. Now, something has brought you to my apartment a good 8 hours earlier than normal - what?'

'Oh right - yeah,' Doyle remembered why he was here, and what he had been so eager to discuss. He took the folded paperwork out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Wesley. 'Remember when I - uh - sorta disappeared on y' last night, at the brothel? Well … it was to do with my vision. The Powers… they directed me to this. I found it in Madam Dorion's private office.'

Wesley scanned the invoice he held in his hand, taking in his meaning. 'Trafficking?' he said.

'Seems to have been goin' on a while - all that crap she spouted about her girls knowin' the rules and accepting the costs. She's buyin' those demon women as slaves and then holdin' 'em prisoner.'

'Then she makes them Com-shuk against their will!' The Groosalug sounded outraged, as he understood what the other two men were saying. Doyle shook his head and looked surprised. 'No - I don't think they're Com-shucking, man. Whatever that is - that's some kind o' ritual that we were gonna do to transfer my visions. These women - it's a bit more old fashioned than that - they're … they're gettin' fleshy with the clients. Accept they don't wanna.'

The Groosalug gave Doyle a very confused look and turned to Wesley. The watcher just shook his head, 'now's not the time, Groosalug. So - Madam Dorion is kidnapping and enslaving demon women for her own profit, is she?'

'Yeah,' Doyle said, 'and we're gonna put an end to it - tonight.'

* * *

'Here we go,' Angel eased the door of Cordelia's apartment open and showed her inside, 'home sweet home.' The woman looked around, impressed with what she saw. 'This place is gorgeous!' she said, 'I really live here?'

'You really do … now, why don't you make your way into the bedroom, start looking through your stuff - see if anything seems familiar - and I'll … put some coffee on.' He headed into the kitchen and closed the door. 'Dennis,' he hissed, 'Dennis are you here - lift the coffee mug if you are.'

The coffee mug was raised - as if by itself.

'Good,' Angel nodded, 'now - Cordelia's lost her memory. She doesn't know who she is - who am I and, more to the point, she has no idea about all the freaky things in this world that go bump in the night. That includes ghosts. So you gotta lay low, hear me? No picking things up or tidying things away - even to be helpful. We don't wanna scare her.'

...

In the bedroom, Cordelia pawed through the wardrobe - pleased to discover that, whoever she was, she had excellent taste in clothes. She frowned. Over the sound of the coffee heating up - coming from the kitchen - she could hear a voice. But intense guy with the sticky up hair was supposed to be alone in there. She stuck her head round the bedroom door, 'hey! Who're you talking to?'

...

Angel gasped, as he realised he was overheard. 'No one!' he came out of the kitchen holding a mug of coffee. 'No one,' he gave her a reassuring smile. 'Coffee?'


	14. Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Part Two

_Part Two_

Much against his will, Angel had returned to the hotel. Once Cordelia had her coffee, she had insisted that he leave her be; give her some peace to try and work things through. He had protested, of course, she needed him there - for if she had any questions and to check she was alright after her head injury. But the woman had insisted and all but shoved him out of the door. Considering she had no recollection of who she was, Cordelia was still remarkably … Cordelia like.

He arrived in the lobby and found Gunn there - combing through the weapons cabinet. Fred was on the phone, 'right,' she was saying, 'we'll be right over - bye.' She put the phone down and turned to Angel, 'hey - did Cordy get settled in OK? - Does she need anything?'

'She just said she needed space,' he looked between the two young people, 'you guys are off out - you got a case?'

'Yeah - Murray from down at the spa just called. That pregnant demon we thought we got rid of came back. Looks like it's gonna spawn any minute - we need to get down there and … terminate the situation.'

Gunn took his hubcap axe down from its place in the weapons cabinet and grinned, 'man - sometimes I love my job. Slice and dice before bed time - you know what I'm saying?'

'Right … where's Lorne?'

'Got himself a client already - took him up to his room. Connor's asleep upstairs.' With a nod of goodbye, Gunn left the hotel - alongside Fred - and Angel went into his office. He opened up his fridge - there were bags of plasma in there. He needed to get rid of these before Cordelia came back to the hotel and opened the office fridge looking for milk to put in her coffee. He took a whole load out and carried them to the front counter, placing them down, he then went back for the rest. Scooping them all up, he headed for the stairs - planning to stash them in the fridge in his suite of rooms. It should be easier to keep Cordy out of that fridge. Unless she went snooping … which wouldn't be completely unlike her...

As he walked down the corridor, laden with his armloads of blood packets, he heard an off key singing come from Lorne's room. '_Sugar ba duh duh duh duh de oh honey honey,'_ a male voice droned. 'OK,' the vampire heard Lorne said, 'that's enough - I'll make this simple. You have an addiction. If you don't stop snacking on you know whos then you're gonna end up on the wrong end of you know…'

Angel continued down the hallway and the anagogic demon's voice faded. He continued up the stairs to his own room - where he found Connor in his crib. 'Hey, little guy!' he greeted his son, his face lighting up in a smile. He crossed to the fridge and began to stash the bags of blood. 'This is gonna be our little secret, OK?' he said to Connor, 'Aunty Cordy doesn't have to know about this just yet - we don't wanna freak her out and scare her away.'

* * *

Cordelia - back at her place - had got changed into some black sweatpants and a comfy shirt. She studied herself in the mirror. 'Hi, I'm Cordy,' she said to her reflection - making her voice sound upbeat. 'I'm Cordelia Chase,' she repeated … but nothing clicked, nothing connected or seemed to fit.

Leaving the mirror behind, she went to scrutinise her photos instead - peering into all the frames she had on the walls and shelves. 'Well - at least intense sticky up hair guy isn't lying,' she said, as she looked at a framed photo of the two of them, 'I do seem to know him.' She looked at a picture of Fred and Gunn and then found one of Lorne. She frowned, 'boy, this guy really does love that green makeup,' she muttered. She found a picture of herself standing with a tall, dark haired guy wearing glasses - he looked stuffy, but kinda cute. She didn't recognise him, though, hadn't met him or heard him mentioned since her blunt force trauma. This picture had been shoved right to the back of the shelf - so it was practically out of sight. Obviously she didn't like this picture, for some reason - which seemed strange, because she looked cute in it.

She wandered into the bedroom and sat on the bed. There was another framed photo sitting on the bedside cabinet. It was her and intense guy - but it didn't fit the frame properly. It was too small. Her brow creased, as she thought about that, and then she turned the frame over and took the back off - sliding the picture from the frame. It was folded over, she found out. One third of the photo had been bent back so it was out of view. She unfolded it - and stared at the newly revealed person. It was a short man, again with dark hair - but with very green eyes. And lots of chest hair. Picture Cordelia was sitting very close to him. 'I wonder why I decided to hide you?' she said to the man in the picture. He just smiled up at her, revealing nothing.

'I sure do change my hair a lot,' she noted, thinking back over all the photos she had looked at. She went back into the living room and looked at her bookshelf. '_Little Women, Emma,'_ she read - running her finger along the titles, '_Wuthering Heights, The Scarlet Letter, the Other Boleyn Girl_… and I sure do like romantic books about historical women,' she mused to herself.

At the end of the shelf was a thick, leather bound red book with '_Sunnydale class of '99'_ printed on the spine. 'OK - yearbook - the story of my life. Neato.' She took it down - some loose photos fell out, but she ignored them for now and instead flipped open the yearbook. It landed on a page that depicted a picture of herself in her cheerleader's uniform. 'OK - cheerleader - popular - no real surprise there,' she said to herself, and flipped back to the cover to see what messages her many friends had written. These might give her some more clues as to who she was - or spark a memory …

'Cordelia, home room was fun,' she read, 'too bad it … _burned to the ground_?' She looked alarmed and read the next message. 'Hey, how 'bout that giant snake… Dear Cordelia, thanks for the flaming arrows… _flaming arrows?' _She closed up the yearbook and replaced it on the shelf. She caught sight of a photo of herself, with long, dark hair, sitting on the shelf, and touched the tips of her short, blonde bob. 'Am I a _spy_?' she wondered. There was a rosary beside the photograph. She picked it up and stared at it. 'A religious spy?'

As she stepped away from the shelf, she caught sight of the loose photographs that had fallen from her yearbook. She stooped to pick them up. One was of a baby. 'Intense guy's baby?' she wondered. She looked at the next one. It was her and intense guy - and the baby was cradled in her arms, as she gazed lovingly down at it. '_Wait_…'

She needed answers. Not the half clues and guesses that she was getting from looking at her stuff. She wanted the truth. What was going on? What was her life? She pulled out the phone book and looked up the address for the business they said she worked for. The Hyperion Hotel. It was in North Hollywood. She would have to get herself there and start asking some serious questions.

She grabbed her purse and left the apartment - thinking she would hail a cab. In the quiet that followed, Dennis picked up the fallen photographs and the phone book and put them away. Then he remembered … and took them back out and put them right where Cordy had left them.

* * *

The men had made their plan - and Wes and Doyle had spent the afternoon drinking scotch, as they finalised the details. But this was not unusual for them, and they were still clear headed and steady footed when it was time to leave.

Just before they headed out, Wes went back into his bedroom to fetch the weapons he wanted. He sat on the bed and strapped on his wrist halters. He noticed something lying on the floor. He bent down to pick it up - though he already knew what it was. It was the dollar bill he had signed for Lilah. She had left it behind. And he was surprised at how much that knowledge gnawed away at him.

* * *

Cordelia arrived at the Hyperion - she paid the cab driver and got out, staring up at the imposing art deco building. 'Wow,' she said to herself, 'classy! We actually own this place?' She headed for the front doors and stepped inside - and glanced around the lobby, taking in the high ceilings and the sweeping staircase. 'Fancy,' she said, 'but a little bit Twilight Zone … hello?' she called out. There was no reply - so she took some more, tentative steps inside. 'Intense guy? Fred? Gunn? Green dude? _Hello_?'

She had walked the length of the counter, now - finding nobody. Her hand trailed along the top of the front desk, her fingers touched something wet. She immediately stopped and raised her fingers to see what it was. The wetness was red - she sniffed - and it smelled metallic. She looked around, frightened, realising what it was. 'Hello?' she cried out again, 'is everyone OK? Is anyone injured?... what's going on?'

As she was looking around, unsure as to if she wanted to see anyone - unsure as to whether or not she wanted to know the source of the blood, she spotted the weapons cabinet. She swallowed heavily. 'This place just gets weirder and weirder,' she said - staring at the axes and the broadswords. 'We are spies!'

She found that the cabinet was unlocked and she opened it up - reaching for a sword, which was sharp and shiny and just seemed to speak to her. But, as her fingers closed around the hilt, she heard a noise behind her and whirled around. 'Hello?'

'You smell good.' A guy stepped out of the shadows. He was short and sweaty - and everything about him made Cordy's skin crawl. Without realising it, her hand clamped more firmly around the sword.

'What do you want?' she asked him warily. There were dark circles under his eyes- and, she wasn't sure, but he seemed to be drooling.

'A snack,' he said to her. He opened his mouth - wide - and a second mouth emerged from it. But this second one was full of sharp teeth and was dripping saliva like a waterfall. He made a growling, roaring sort of noise and sprang towards the startled woman.

Without making a conscious decision to do it - without thinking or even realising she was acting - Cordelia gripped the hilt of the sword in her hand and pulled it down from the cabinet. She swirled it round and slashed out at the man - the _thing_ \- that was attacking her. He fell back and she moved the line. He fell back again and she pushed forwards until he was pinned up against the front desk.

Realising he was trapped, the drooling guy tried to jump her again - and she pulled her sword back and plunged it deep into his gut. He screamed and she pulled the sword back out - her eyes wide and frightened - her breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. Wounded, but not killed, he made another lunge for her. She screamed and swung the sword as hard as she could. His head was cleaved from his shoulders and it bounced along the floor. His decapitated body stood for a moment - swaying - and then it fell forwards. Cordelia screamed, again, and jumped backwards. She stared at the headless corpse for one terrified moment - and then she dropped the sword, with a clatter, and ran out of the door - into the courtyard garden.

Just as she got outside, however, she heard the sound of the gate opening - and Fred and Gunn returning. She ducked behind a pillar so that she wouldn't be seen.

'How much do I hate those little babies?' Gunn was saying. Cordelia wrinkled her face in confusion.

'Tell me about it,' Fred agreed, 'I couldn't squish squash fast enough.'

'I know we get paid to do it - but that's the kind of mayhem I'd do for free.'

'I'm gonna be washing their teeny brains out of my hair for a week.'

Behind her pillar, Cordelia was tensed and frozen - unable to believe what she was hearing, and terrified of being discovered. 'Spies that kill babies,' she breathed, 'oh my god!'

'Hang on. Turn around,' she heard Gunn say to Fred.

'What is it?'

'You don't even wanna know - just hold still.'

'I wonder how Cordelia's doing?' Fred said, as she stood still and waited for Gunn to remove … whatever was clinging to the back of her. She didn't want to think about it. 'I'm thinking it might be best if we just came clean. How can we keep that we do this sort of exterminating a secret for any length of time?'

'I guess that's for Angel to decide.' Gunn replied, 'he's the boss - there - got it, we're done.' They began to move towards the hotel again. 'But I can't see fang boy wantin' to tell her the whole truth any time soon.'

Cordelia peered at them from behind her pillar. They were through the courtyard and nearly on the veranda now. She could not remain hidden for long and, not wanting to be seen by these baby killing maniacs, she made the decision to turn and flee. Maybe she could get through the lobby and out of the front door before they caught her.

She took her first step - and ran straight into intense guy. She yelped. 'Hey,' he said - catching hold of her, 'what's wrong?'

'Cordelia?' Fred was walking towards her now, too - and Cordy could see that the woman and her boyfriend both carried sharp blades, probably from that cabinet she had found, and they were dripping with blood.

Panicked, she took a step back from Angel - went onto the balls of her feet, balled her fist and slung her right hook straight into the middle of his face. She heard a crunch, as her knuckles collided with his nose.

* * *

The men arrived back in Bel Air for the second night in a row. But this time, instead of walking through the front doors of the opulent brothel, they went to lurk around in the dark alley, behind it. They did not have to wait long - a few minutes after their arrival, a van pulled up and switched off the ignition. Two men got out of the driver's cab and went around to open the back doors.

Hidden in the shadows, Doyle, Wes and Groo watched as the men opened up the back and then bundled out a struggling figure. It was a woman - small - and with a sack over her head. Between the two of them, they shoved her over to the building. She stumbled and tripped as she went, unable to see where she was going - and fighting every inch of the way. A back door opened and - just for a moment - the three hidden men saw the outline of Madam Dorion, as she welcomed the small group into the brothel. Then the door was shut, and the alley was thrown into darkness once more.

The three of them looked at each other. 'Right,' Wesley said, 'It's time - I'll go in. Doyle - wait for my signal. Groosalug - you stay out here and wait for those men to return.'

'I shall not fail you,' the undefeated warrior said, brandishing his sword, 'they shall pay.'

...

Dressed in a suit, his hair combed neatly and having taken the time to shave, Wesley went round the the front of the building and walked inside. Just as last night, there were groups of demon girls - waiting for clients - in the luxurious foyer. The women made eyes at him, called to him - and he pretended to blush. He stood there, looking awkward - like he wasn't sure what to do, until Madam Dorion, herself, came down the stairs and greeted him.

'Mr. Wyndham - Pryce - back so soon?'

'Yes - I uh…' he cleared his throat, uncomfortably, 'yes.'

'Not for more business I hope?'

'No - that case is resolved I was … I was… uh … hoping that .. maybe … well … in point of fact…'

Madam Dorion smiled, broadly, 'I see - it is pleasure that brings you here tonight.' She looked around. 'Mr. Doyle decided not to join you?'

Wesley blushed again, 'he - uh … I mean… I didn't mention...'

'Well - maybe he'll find his own way here. So - what exactly is it you're looking for, tonight, Mr. Wyndham - Pryce?'

Wesley blushed even deeper and began to make incoherent stuttering noises. The Madam's smile grew even broader, 'we'll start you out gently,' she suggested, 'Calina!' she called over a demon with smooth, green skin and bright red hair. 'I'd like you to take Mr. Wyndham - Pryce up to the purple boudoir. Show him a good time.'

Calina looked Wesley up and down, 'he's pretty,' she said. Wesley flamed even deeper and began to stutter all over again. The demon woman took his hand and began to lead him up the stairs; the watcher fell over his feet, as he followed her. Madam Dorion watched him go - almost pityingly. 'Calina,' she called after the demon woman, 'go easy on him.'

...

Wesley was taken up to the second storey landing. Calina unlocked a door and ushered him inside. 'It's right in here,' she said - her voice was a husky whisper. Inside, there was a large round bed with satin sheets laid across it. There were candles lit - and their flickering flames gave out the heavy heady scent of jasmine. The carpets were thick, there was a mirror on the ceiling and a display of furry and feathery toys on the dresser. Not surprisingly, given the name of the room, all the soft furnishings in there were purple. Even the light had a magenta glow to it.

Calina shut the door and led Wesley to the bed. She sat him down and sat beside him, then she caressed his face with her hand. 'Now - what would you like me to do to you?'

He pulled a dagger out and held it to her throat. She smiled, 'we don't normally go in for that straight away.' He pushed it closer to her skin. 'I'm afraid there's been a change of plan,' he told her - his voice no longer stuttering and unsure. 'All I want from you is answers - tell me what I want to know and I shan't harm you.'

Her eyes had widened - as she began to realise that this wasn't role play. She tried to move further away from the watcher. But Wesley, his movements sure and expert, followed along - keeping the pressure of the knife on her at all times. 'Do we have an agreement?' he asked her. She nodded.

'Good - Madam Dorion does not come across all the workers in her brothel legally, does she?' he asked. At first, Calina didn't answer, so he pressed harder with the knife and asked again. She shook her head. 'She traffics them? From across the world?' he checked. This time Calina nodded her head. 'Were you one such girl?' There was a pause - and then she nodded again. 'I'm sorry,' Wesley told her, 'I really am. Now. One girl was brought here tonight - do you know anything about that?'

She shook her head, 'girls arrive all the time. We're discouraged from talking to each other about how we got here. We're not allowed to spend time together when we're not working. Dorion does not want a workers' revolt on her hands. She tries to make us believe that everyone else is here, willingly. That there is no one to help us.'

'Do you wish to escape?'

'How?'

'Just tell me where they would take this new girl...'

...

Down in the alley, Doyle waited - his hands shoved in his pockets. 'Shouldn't be long now,' he said to the Groosalug, 'will you be OK takin' care of those guys by yourself?'

'Surely they will offer no challenge to the blade of the Groosalug.'

'That's good - 'cause look,' he pointed upward to a second storey window, where the beam of a flashlight was winking on and off. 'That's my signal. Good luck, man.'

'And you - Noble Majesty.'

Doyle nodded and then crossed the alleyway. He put his foot on the first rung of the fire escape ladder and then began to scale the building. When he reached the second floor, it was to find the window open and Wesley waiting for him. He scrambled inside and the watcher helped him right himself. 'This is Calina,' Wesley said without preamble, indicating the demon woman, 'she was trafficked here, as well - she says new girls are taken up to the very top floor of the building. She'll be chained up.'

'I've got my axe.'

'It's the end room,' Calina told him, 'and it's kept very dark. We're kept there, in the dark, not given any food or water until we agree to work for Dorion.'

'That all ends tonight,' Wesley said, 'you think you can find her?' Doyle nodded. 'Then go - quickly.' The half demon left the room. Wesley took out his hip flask. 'What are you going to do?' Calina asked him. Instead of taking a drink, he threw the contents of the flask all over the curtains and the bedspread and the carpet. 'Bourbon,' he told her. He led her back over to the door and then he lit a match...

* * *

Angel winced, his nose hurt and he brought his hand up to it, reflexively. But he didn't let Cordelia run past him. 'Ow!' he said. 'Cordy - what's wrong?'

'What's wrong?' she repeated in disbelief, 'a guy with two mouths tried to kill me - I cut his head off, they -' she waved at Fred and Gunn 'are out killing babies and you keep lethal weapons in the lobby of your creepy hotel. What the hell is going on, Angie?'

'Angel.'

'Whatever … you're spies - aren't you?

'Spies?'

'Probably Russian.'

'I look Russian to you?' Gunn asked, confused.

'Black Russian.'

'That's a cocktail,' Angel told her.

'Said the chief spy!' she retorted. 'I can fight with weapons. I can punch _really_ hard. I change my hair, like, _all the time_… I'm a spy and you're enemy spies and you've brainwashed me into thinking we're friends so I'll spill the beans on some nano-techno-thingy that you want.'

'Nobody here is a spy, Cordelia,' Angel sought to reassure her. He turned to his other friends, 'maybe give us some space?' he asked. Fred and Gunn nodded - and left them to it.

'We're not spies?' Cordelia said - still distrustful, once they we're alone, 'and we're really friends?'

'We really are.'

'Then what is going on?'

He sighed - and sat down on the bench by the fountain. He patted it and she came to sit beside him. 'I maybe haven't been a hundred percent honest with you,' he admitted,'I wanted to protect you because … the truth is, Cordelia, she - you - knows some pretty scary and amazing things. About the world. And - I didn't want to have to tell you about these things until you were ready to know it - or believe it. Some of it is pretty unbelievable.'

She wrinkled her forehead as she thought about his words. 'What do I know, that you don't want me to know?' she asked.

'You know about … evil,' he told her, heavily. 'You know there are more things in this world than most people recognise - you know about what preys on people in the dark. And you help fight it. That's why you know how to use a weapon.'

'I'm an evil fighter?' she sounded disbelieving, 'and so are you?' Angel nodded. She laughed out loud - but it was a mirthless laugh, 'and what? Fred and Gunn were just out massacring _evil_ babies?'

'Well - yeah.'

'This is nuts. I think I preferred it when we were spies.'

'You love your work, Cordelia - it's important to you. You love helping people. You're a champion… though your filing system leaves a little something to be desired.'

'Am I …' she hesitated.

'What?'

'Am I a mother?' she asked him. She took out the photo of her and Angel and Connor, 'I found this. Is your baby my baby? Are we together? Are we a family?'

He sighed. 'We're a family,' he told her, 'but you're not Connor's mother. His mother is dead.'

'Oh,' she leaned in closer to him, 'so - we're not … _together_?'

'That's complicated,' he whispered - also leaning in, as if they were about to kiss. She pulled back. 'Is that because I'm a nun?'

'_what?'_

'Is it complicated because I'm a nun? We love each other - but we can't be together because I've taken holy orders?'

'Why would you think that?' He sounded genuinely confused.

'I also found a whole load of these at my apartment,' she explained. She handed him the rosaries, and he took them without looking what they were. But, the moment the crosses touched his flesh, his skin began to steam - and his face vamped out with the sudden pain. Cordelia stared at the bumps and the fangs and the yellow eyes. She screamed - and then jumped to her feet and pelted through the courtyard, running out of the gate and slamming it behind her.

'Cordelia!' Angel raced after her - but by the time he got the gate open, the street was empty. Cordy had vanished.


	15. Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Part Three

_Part Three_

The fire had very quickly taken hold, lapping up the curtains and carpets - it spread quickly through the room and out into the hallway, beyond. Wesley bundled Calina ahead of him, heading for the stairs. The smoke began to creep under the cracks beneath the other doors - and cries of distress could be heard coming from every quarter.

Within minutes, the entire second storey was aflame - and the brothel was filled with the sounds of panicking people, struggling to get out. Doyle, however, headed in the opposite direction to everyone else.

Making sure he stayed ahead of the leaping, crackling fire that was now threatening to overwhelm the building entirely, he ran up the stairs - heading for the very top floor. He kept the sleeve of his jacket clamped firmly across his mouth and nose, as he went, trying to avoid inhaling the acrid smoke as much as was possible.

Once he reached the very uppermost storey, he began to make his way to the very end of the corridor. It was just typical that, when they were in so much danger, the room he needed would have to be the most distant one there was. He moved quickly, but carefully - treading the floor boards with extreme caution - testing them before he put his full weight on them.

Although he was high above the source of the fire, and the anguished cries were now left far behind, he knew the flames would be travelling upwards. The smoke already swirled thickly in the air of the hallway; hitting him in the back of the throat and making him cough; stinging his eyes and making them water. The longer the fire raged, the more likely the floor was to give, beneath him - and he had no wish to get trapped up here in a fire of his own making.

Screwing his eyes up, to guard against the smoke, he stumbled his way towards the very end of the hall and found the door Calina had told him about. It was locked. Of course it was. He raised his axe and began to chop his way through. The smoke was thickening around him - and he could hear the distant roar of the flames coming closer. It was hot. Really hot - but he didn't want to take his jacket off, as he needed all the extra layers he could get, for protection.

From inside the room, he could hear a frantic whimpering. At least Calina was right - the girl was in there. Eventually, he broke through the lock and was able to kick the door in. The demon woman was chained up in the far corner - and Doyle was reminded, just for a moment, of the time in Pylea when he had stormed the dungeons to rescue Cordy. But the billowing smoke and the rising heat told him this was no time to stand still and reminisce about his glory days as a King - back when Cordelia still loved him. He was very much in the dark and desperate here and now - and immediate action was needed.

The woman began to scream, when she saw him there - stood in the broken down doorway - axe in hand. 'No!' she cried, 'please, let me go, let me go!' She twisted in her chains, trying to pull them from the walls - but they held fast.

'It's OK,' the half demon assured her, moving slowly towards her - his hands raised to show her he meant no harm. 'I'm here to help - I'm gettin' you out of here, we need to move quickly.' He choked, as the smoke swarmed into his mouth, as he spoke. 'We need to be quick,' he said, coughing again.

'This place is on fire!' the demon woman told him - her eyes wide and panicked. Doyle nodded, and coughed. 'Part of our cunning escape plan - it's a distraction for Dorion. Hold those chains still.' He raised his axe, again - and the girl squealed in fear.

'I'm just gonna chop you free,' he told her, 'I've done this before - hold still.' Again - he thought of his time in Pylea - of freeing Cordelia from her dank prison - as he brought the blade of his axe down on the rings that held the chains tight to the wall. It took a couple of blows, but he managed to free her left hand chain from its anchor. 'Pull this as tight as you can,' he said to her - indicating the second chain. The heat was intense, by now; the smoke was ever thickening and Doyle was struggling to peer through the suffocating grey fog.

The demon woman pulled herself away from the wall, stretching the chain to its full length. Doyle morphed into his demon face, to give him extra strength, and then chopped away at the link which secured the chain to the wall. Again, it took a couple of blows - but then it gave. The woman staggered back and fell to the ground. The floorboards creaked beneath her, threatening to give way. Down the other end of the hallway, the orange flames were clearly visible, now. They leapt and crackled up the stairs - licking their way down the corridor and towards the two demons in the end room.

'We can't go back the way I came,' Doyle said to the girl, 'the fire's all the way up the stairs. We'll be trapped. C'mon!' He helped her back to her feet and wrapped an arm around her to support her, as they both stumbled their way towards the window. The Irishman flung the sash window open - and the fresh air came streaming in. It was a moment of glorious relief … but then, behind them, they heard the fire roar and intensify - as it was fed by this new blast of oxygen.

'You first,' he helped the woman onto the window sill and then held the window open for her, as she crawled out of the small space. She landed on the very top of the fire escape, coughing and spluttering as she found herself out in the open.

Thanking providence that he was only small - and not a great strapping hero like Angel - Doyle followed her out, squeezing himself out of the open window. He found the woman collapsed on the ledge. 'C'mon love,' he mumbled, his voice slurred and painful after the harmful effects of the smoke, 'we need to get down.'

But the woman - exhausted and terrified after her kidnap, imprisonment and then escape from a burning building, could not get back to her feet. Her eyes rolled up and she went still. Doyle dropped his axe and picked her up. Holding her in his arms, like she was his new bride, he began to struggle down the rickety metal staircase - down to the next level.

The fire had engulfed the whole building, now, and he was having to keep as close to the edge as possible, trying to keep distance between him and the flames that spat out of the windows. Even so, he could feel the burning heat on the side of his face, feel the sparks shooting out at him. He was covered in soot and his eyes and throat were stinging like crazy from the smoke damage. His back and shoulder muscles were aching with carrying the woman - especially after the exertion of chopping his way through doors and chains. But he kept on stumbling downwards, forcing one foot in front of the other - willing himself to reach the ground.

...

Down on the ground, the alleyway was swarming with panicking demon women and human men - all in various states of undress. The blare of sirens and a flashing of blue light told them the fire brigade had arrived. Hoses were turned on the building and - still making his way downwards, staggering under the weight of the woman he had rescued - Doyle found himself suddenly drenched in a blast of icy water.

The sudden force of the spray nearly knocked him over - but behind him, the flames began to die back. The droplets of water clung to his scorched skin - stinging just as much as the smoke had done.

...

Amidst the swarm of patrons and prostitutes, Wesley and the Groosalug stared anxiously upward, looking for any sign that their friend had escaped the inferno.

...

Reaching the third storey, the metal staircases gave way - and there were only ladders from this point onward. Breathing heavily, with the exhaustion and exertion, Doyle put the unconscious woman down on the ledge and began to unhook the ladder - so that they could climb down it.

...

'There!' the Groosalug pointed upwards, spotting the two figures high up, on the side of the building. 'His Majesty needs help.' He raced forward and began to climb the fire escape, himself. The Firefighters tried to stop him - but they were no match for the undefeated champion of Pylea - and he casually flung them aside and began to scramble upwards towards Doyle.

...

The Irishman had spotted Groo heading for him - and he nearly collapsed with relief at the thought of someone else taking charge of saving the woman. She was not large - or heavy - but, scrambling down the side of a burning building, she had been a dead weight - and the half demon's muscles were screaming in agony.

The Groosalug reached him quickly and bounded onto the ledge. He picked up the woman and slung her over his shoulder, in a fireman's lift. 'I shall take her from here, Highness,' he told Doyle, 'can you manage the rest yourself?'

Doyle nodded, though his legs and arms felt like jelly. Groo headed on down the ladder and - after a moment of willing himself to stay upright - Doyle followed him. As his foot finally hit the ground, he felt a strong arm wrap itself around his shoulders. 'It's OK,' he heard Wesley's voice say, 'I've got you, come on.'

Leaning against his friend, the whole way, Doyle followed Wes and Groo further down the alley - away from the swarming crowd. Once clear of everyone else, Groo laid the woman down on the ground. 'She needs air,' Wesley said, 'keep back.' Doyle slumped to the ground next to her. 'Are you OK?' the watcher asked him, sounding worried, 'are you injured?'

He shook his head, 'no, man,' he croaked - his voice still hoarse, 'I'm just … just … knackered.' He closed his eyes. He could just go to sleep - right here - go to sleep and stay that way for a thousand years. But it was not to be. 'We need to get her to a doctor,' Wesley was saying - far above him.

'We can't…' his voice was heavy and he was having to force every word out, 'look at her.' He wasn't wrong. The woman had pale lilac skin, though there were dark cerise patches around the edge of her face and down onto her shoulders. The dark pink edges were then patterned by what looked like narrow tribal tattoos. Her hair fell in a cerise wave down her back but her pointed, elf shaped ears still poked through. She was very pretty - but she was clearly not human.

'She needs medical attention - and so do you,' Wesley's voice was tense - sharp with worry, 'what do you suggest?'

Doyle coughed; a long, hacking, drawn out choke. 'Cordy,' he gasped. 'We'll have to take her to Cordy.'

Wesley inhaled, sharply. He was silent for a moment. 'Very well,' he eventually agreed. 'Groosalug -' the undefeated champion did not need telling, he swept the woman back into his arms. Wes then helped the Irishman back to his feet and wrapped his arm around him, once more. 'This is a big risk we're taking,' he said, as the pair of them staggered out of the alleyway.

'What else can we do?' Doyle asked.

* * *

Cordelia ran through the streets. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. She knew this was L.A … but she didn't ever remember living in L.A - didn't know her way about. She couldn't even remember which neighbourhood her apartment had been in. But she just needed to get away from that bumpy, monstrous … whatever the hell that thing had been.

He had said that she knew about evil - that she helped fight it. Well, she might be missing her memories - have no idea who she was - but he was right, she recognised evil when she saw it. And she was getting the hell away from it.

She turned down the next cross street she came to - hoping to throw intense guy off the trail. She didn't doubt for a moment he would follow her. It was quieter down here, and there was an empty bench right beneath a street light. She went and sank down on it. 'Right, great plan. Run out and leave your purse behind,' she said to herself. 'OK - you're in a strange town. You don't know where you are or who anybody is. Or who you are. You don't have any money. How exactly the hell are you going to get yourself out of this situation?'

* * *

'Look - maybe we should stop and think more carefully about this,' Gunn said - as he and Fred hurried through the streets trying to keep up with Angel, who strode purposefully onward.

'Carefully?' The vampire stopped walking and span around to look back at his friends

'I'm just sayin' - maybe we should check the hospitals, ring the police - get Kate out looking for her,' Gunn replied, also coming to a stop. 'There's gotta be more efficient ways to find Cordy than just stormin' through the streets hoping to bump into her.'

'I think maybe Charles is right,' Fred agreed. She was panting - the men had much longer legs than she did and she was having to run to keep up with them. She put her hand to her side and massaged it, trying to knead out the stitch that was developing.

'Look,' Angel said, 'Cordy's out here all alone. In her state, she doesn't know the city - doesn't know where she's going. She doesn't know what's out there - preying on vulnerable people like her. She needs our help - needs our protection.'

'You sure about that?' Gunn asked. He raised his hands in surrender as Angel opened his mouth to fire off a furious retort - but he spoke first. 'Look - all I'm sayin' is … she killed that demon in the hotel stone dead. She hit you a pretty good one. She might not know who she is but … girl remembers how to fight. She's not completely defenceless.'

'How is that?' Fred asked - still breathing, heavily. 'How come somethin' managed to squish everything that was Cordy outta her brain, but she still kept all the training you did with her? I saw the way she moved before she hit you, Angel, it was like she was a born fighter. A warrior.'

'Muscle memory,' the vampire said tersely. 'It uses a different part of the brain to where all the information is kept. Repetition of a motor task gets stored in a subconscious part of the brain and is accessible - even when all the other stuff, the more important stuff is lost. Cordy's cerebellum is fine - so her body remembers how to fight. But it's not enough. There are a lot of bug uglies out there and she doesn't have a weapon - or a clue what's going on. She can't fight everything out there - we need to find her. Fast.'

As he stopped talking, he began to sniff the air.

'Angel...'

He held a hand up to stop Fred from speaking - and looked this way and that, sniffing the whole time.

'You got something?' Gunn asked - but, without even bothering to answer, Angel suddenly looked skyward and then leapt up to catch hold of a drain pipe on the nearby building. He scaled the wall and made it up to the roof - heading away over the rooftops without looking back.

Fred stared after him, 'I hate when he does that,' she said.

'Man's a born drama queen,' Gunn replied.

'You think he'll find her?'

'I'm sure he will - now he's caught her scent, boy's like a bloodhound.'

They began to walk back to the hotel. 'Is that stuff true?' Gunn asked, as they walked, 'about Cordy's brain - her muscle memory? Is that really what's going on?'

'Well - I'm not a neuroscientist,' Fred said, 'but it sounded about right. Why?'

'I dunno - she just seemed … that was a heck of a right hook. I saw tears in the big dog's eyes. You think muscle memory can really be that powerful?'

'What else can it be?' Fred shrugged.

* * *

The three men burst through the front door of the Hyperion. The Groosalug still held the unconscious woman in his arms and Wesley still supported Doyle. The lobby was empty - except for Lorne who was sat on the floor, playing with Connor. The green demon looked up, at the sudden interruption. 'Oh - it's you two,' he said, his voice showing his distaste for the men who had betrayed Angel earlier in the year. 'And … the undefeated champion from Pylea, well isn't that just a little slice of home sweet hell?'

There was a moment of quiet. Doyle expected Wesley to speak - to explain why they were there, he was the leader after all, and Doyle's throat was badly damaged from the smoke inhalation. But the watcher was not speaking - instead he was staring at the baby, playing on the floor - unable to tear his eyes away from him.

'Uh - we need Cordy,' the Irishman said, when he realised that Wes was not going to do the talking, 'where is she?'

'Cordy's … out at the moment.' Lorne raked his eyes across the demon in Groo's arms, 'but I see you fellas managed to find yourself a damsel in distress. I'll see what I can do for her - Groosalug, strudel, keep an eye on the baby. I don't trust these two.' He got to his feet and took the unconscious woman from the champion and carried her over to the daybed. Doyle limped out from under Wes's supporting arm and followed the demons. The watcher was still stood, frozen, staring down at Connor.

The little boy was sat on his playmat, engrossed in a plastic train he was pushing back and forth. But he suddenly looked up, as he realised Lorne was no longer with him, and that was when he saw Wesley. His little face lit up, his eyes shone and he was wreathed in smiles. He held his pudgy arms out to the man. 'Dada!' he cried, 'dada!'

Everybody froze - and turned to look back at Wesley. The British man said nothing and - after a moment longer of staring hungrily at the little boy - he turned and left. Connor began to cry. The Groosalug looked awkward and then sat down on the mat next to the baby. 'Hello, little friend,' he said earnestly, taking Connor's hand and shaking it, 'I am the Groosalug - the brave and undefeated.' Connor stopped crying and was now staring up at this new man. Groo smiled - revealing his ever so slightly pointed teeth. 'You have many treasures here, little friend,' he said - indicating the toys, 'may I look at them?'

Lorne watched for a moment - his eyes lingering on the door Wesley had just exited. But then he smiled at where Groo was babysitting, and went back to trying to help the injured woman. 'What happened?' he asked Doyle, he looked the half demon up and down, noting the soot stains and scorch marks that dirtied him, as well.

'Fire,' Doyle croaked. 'She was bein' held prisoner - we rescued her … but the place burned to the ground.'

'I see … well, I'm not Cordelia - I'll just have to feel my way through this. Go get the first aid kit.'

The Irishman nodded and limped over to Cordelia's desk. He paused for a moment, as he stood in this familiar spot; his whole chest was aching - and not from the smoke. She had replaced the photo of the two of them, she had kept on her desk, with a pot plant - he noted. Though the plant wasn't looking too healthy.

He got the first aid kit out of the bottom drawer - took it to Lorne and then went back to water the plant. When he got back to the anagogic demon, Lorne was rooting through the kit. 'Nasal spray and cough medicine,' he said, holding the items up, 'it's the best I can do. Be a champ and open the door - give her some air.' Doyle limped off and opened the doors that led out to the courtyard. The scent of the jasmine bushes wafted through into the lobby.

Once again, the Irishman returned to Lorne's side. 'Uh - Lorne?' he said tentatively, 'there's somethin' I wanna talk to you about … ask you about.'

The Host squinted up at him from the daybed, looking a little distracted. 'What's that?'

'Uh - well it's … her.' He indicated the woman. 'The fact o' her, I mean. Somethin' … somethin' weird happened to me, the other night. I got this .. sense o' destiny -' and he told Lorne about the way he had felt drawn to Madam Dorion's office, and finding the paperwork telling him all about this woman being bought and arriving tonight. 'And - the thing o' it is - I'm still gettin' that feeling from her. Off her. Like - when I'm around her, everythin' inside o' me - every cell - is just screaming. That she's important, that … well - I dunno, but she has a destiny, man. A big one.'

'You're sure this sensation isn't a little bit more _physical_ than destiny?' Lorne asked, 'she's very pretty.'

'Nah, man,' Doyle snorted derisively, 'I'll only ever have eyes for Cordy. Anyway - I felt it before I saw her.'

'You wanna sing?'

'No.' He didn't know why - but he really didn't want to sing. Just like every cell in his body had screamed at him to go and rescue the girl, now every cell in his body was screaming that he could not let the Host read him. No matter what. He didn't know why that was - but Skip had told him to trust his instincts, and he did. 'This is about her,' he told Lorne, 'her destiny. I'm just the messenger. It's her you gotta read.'

* * *

Wesley arrived home, his mind was in turmoil. Connor still knew him - Connor was happy to see him, had held out his arms wanting to be picked up and held close by the man who had - for a few wonderful, perfect weeks - been his father. Over the summer, the need to find Connor had been what had driven the watcher; he'd killed for Connor; he'd kept a woman a slave for Connor … and then Angel had found him, without Wesley's help. And Wesley had not been prepared for the reality of seeing the little boy again.

He opened the door. Lilah was already in there. 'Get out,' he said to her. She looked surprised, hurt - almost. 'You need to leave or I will make you leave,' he said. His voice was even but there was a tone of menace underneath.

'What's wrong?' she asked him - but he wasn't willing to answer. Instead he grabbed hold of her, she cried out but he ignored her. He marched her across the living room and threw her out into the hallway. She protested the whole way - but he was not in the mood for her, for her games. He wanted to be alone. He bolted the door behind her.

He went to pour himself a scotch and then sat alone, in the dark, thinking about that happy little boy who had called him 'dada.'


	16. Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Part Four

_Part Four_

'She's comin' round,' Doyle said, peering over Lorne's shoulder, as the demon woman's eyes drifted open. She looked up at them both in fright - her eyes were as dark pink as her hair. But her pupils appeared more electric blue than black. It gave her an eldritch, otherworldly look

'Hey sweet cheeks,' Lorne said, smiling down at her, 'I know you've been in the wars, this evening, but you're safe here - can you sit up?'

She struggled upwards, keeping her strange eyes locked on Doyle the whole time. 'You,' she said to him, 'you saved me.'

'It's kinda my job,' he shrugged - the way she was looking at him was making him uncomfortable, and not only because her eyes were so weird.

'Thank you,' she grabbed hold of his hand, 'thank you.'

He pulled his hand free from her clasp. 'It's nothin' - really. I save damsels in distress all the time.'

'Listen, sugar, it's been a big night,' the Host said kindly - looking between the awkward half demon and the grateful woman. 'Here, take this - it'll soothe your throat, some.' He gave her a spoonful of the cough medicine. 'Now - the way Doyle tells it, you've lost your way, little bird - or more to the point - someone shoved you off your path.' He smiled again, 'you don't know where you are - or how to get home.'

She hadn't yet taken her eyes off Doyle - and the Irishman was beginning to squirm under her gaze. Lorne cleared his throat. 'So that's where I can help,' he said to her. Finally - she tore her eyes away from the man who had saved her and looked at the green skinned demon instead. 'You can help me?' she asked.

Lorne nodded, 'as easy as 'doe ray me' … I can read people when they sing, sugar - see their destiny, give them guidance on where they need to go. What they need to do. Just a couple of bars of your favourite tune and I can get you where you're going.'

Her eyes had wandered back to Doyle, but she pulled them away to look at Lorne, once again., 'really?' she asked. He nodded. 'My throat hurts,' she told him, 'I don't know if I can…'

'Doesn't have to be good,' he told her, 'you should hear the tone deaf foghorns that inhabit this hotel! Come on - just a couple of lines of Whitney. How about it?'

She glanced back at Doyle - her eyes raked over him, taking him all in. He shuffled his feet and stared down at his shoes. When he looked up again, she was looking back at Lorne - who was still smiling encouragingly. She took a deep breath. '_I used to cry myself to sleep at night…' _she began. The smile slid from Lorne's face. '_But that was all before he came.' _

Lorne had scooched back along the daybed - moving away from the singing woman. Doyle looked at him. He looked green. More green than usual.

'_I thought love had to hurt to turn out right…'_

Lorne was twitching. His right eye was winking, uncontrollably - his whole body was tense. Doyle frowned.

'_But now he's here - it's not the same.' _

'Right right - that's fine that'll do,' the anagogic demon cut her off. She stopped singing and looked at him, expectantly. But he was still backing away. 'You were great -' he stammered, 'everything's great,' he got to his feet and stumbled backwards, 'we're all just - uh - I see a very ...Um …' he turned tail and fled. Doyle and the demon woman just stared at each other in surprise.

* * *

Cordelia sat on her bench and stared up at the night sky - there were no stars visible and she wished that there were. It might be comforting to see them shining down on her - instead there was just a vast, black emptiness above her and it left her cold, despite the warmth of the evening. The void above reminded her of the void within herself - the great gaping black hole where her memories should be. She shivered.

Two men turned the corner and began to walk down the road. They moved slowly and she could feel their eyes on her the whole time. Suddenly, she felt very vulnerable - sitting out in the open, right under a light. She got to her feet and began to hurry on down the sidewalk - keeping her head low and her pace brisk. But she heard them speed up behind her - their footsteps falling more heavily on the asphalt.

She increased her pace - and they did the same. Throwing caution to the wind, she broke into a run - and heard the men do the same, behind her. She dodged around a corner, hoping to shake them - and then took a sharp left. But this was a mistake. It took her into a blind alley and, within twenty paces, she had hit up against a dead end. Behind her, she could hear the footsteps - they were slower again, now. They knew she was trapped. Frightened, she turned to face her pursuers.

* * *

Doyle and the demon woman stared at each other. 'What happened?' she asked him, 'why did he…?'

'Uhm…' the half demon looked uncomfortable and twisted around so he could gaze in the direction Lorne had fled in. 'I guess maybe … uh … maybe I should go check on him?' he said, 'go ask what's up. That isn't what he normally does when he reads people, I swear.' He took a step - heading for the stairs.

'Wait!' the girl cried. He span back around and looked at her. 'What?'

'I - I don't want you to leave me,' she said, 'here - in this strange place - all alone. Stay?'

Doyle looked at her, saw the way her dark, pink eyes stared up at him - pleading, vulnerable. He swallowed, hard.

* * *

Cordy shrank back against the chain link fence that blocked her way. She glanced up at it, wondering if she could scramble over it before the men reached her - but then decided probably not, they would catch hold of her before she was over - and pull her back down. Better to stand her ground - and fight. She wasn't sure where that last thought came from, but her body changed position - without her commanding it to. She went onto the balls of her feet, her legs planted firmly apart - her fists raised.

The men approached her - 'well look here,' one of them - a tall guy in a hat - said, 'looks like she wanted us to find her.'

'Why'd you run away, sweet cheeks?' The other one said - he was small and lumpy.

'Leave me alone!' she demanded, 'I'll scream!'

'No one to hear you,' Hat wheezed at her, 'now, give us your cell and your wallet.'

It was weird. She should be frightened. She had been frightened, whilst she was running. These guys wanted to mug her. Her breath was heavy, her chest rising and falling rapidly. But she didn't feel frightened, anymore - as she listened to these skeeze bags threaten her. She just felt … mad. 'OK' she said to hat '- a) that is so never gonna happen and b) what? are you blind? I don't have my purse. I don't even have any of that stuff on me.'

'Now now little lady - I aint listening to that, no woman leaves her home without her purse.'

'Listen to this, neanderthal breath,' she retorted, 'I got nothing - you're getting nothing from me - so you're gonna take your stupid hat and your lumpy little friend, here, and get the hell outta my face!'

'I don't like your tone, missy,' hat pulled out a switchblade and held it up to her throat, 'what do you say now?'

She didn't answer. Instead, she pivoted, shifting her weight onto her left leg and then struck out - at chest height - with her right foot. She kicked the blade clean out of his hands and, before he could react, she planted both feet on the floor again and used her right fist to hit lumpy square in the nose. She immediately followed that up with a left hook straight into hat's face. He hadn't been expecting a southpaw and he staggered backwards, clutching his nose. She used the space this created to raise her left leg, swiftly and surely, and booted lumpy straight in the groin. He went down, groaning in pain. Hat had recovered and ran back at her. She sidestepped him, grabbed hold of him round the torso and then used the momentum of his running to fling him head first into the chain link fence. He collapsed in a heap on top of lumpy and Cordelia didn't wait to see if they got back up again. She ran back out of the alley, rounding the corner at top speed - where she collided head first with a solid mass of muscle.

She looked up - into intense guy's face - and screamed.

* * *

'Um, listen,' Doyle shuffled awkwardly, 'Groo's right here,' he indicated the undefeated champion - who still sat on the play mat, engrossed with Connor's toys, 'you wouldn't be alone.'

The Groosalug looked up from the stickle bricks he had been trying to connect together, 'it would be my honour to protect the noble lady with my blade and my life,' he assured them both.

'See,' Doyle said, 'he's the hero - not me. He's who y' want lookin' out for y' … not that y' not safe here, but we need to find out what Lorne saw...' he glanced around the hotel lobby, worriedly, 'preferably before the rest o' the team show up. They - uh - they don't really like me bein' here. Especially not with Connor.' He nodded at the baby that sat beside Groo - handing the undefeated champion brick after brick, as they tried to build a tower together.

But the demon woman was not ready to let her saviour out of her sight. 'Please,' she gripped his hand, and pulled him towards the daybed, 'please - I don't want to be in this strange place by myself when these others get back. I don't want to have to explain - or know how to explain … when they get here, then you can go speak to your friend. But not before.' She squeezed his hand, 'please?'

He swallowed, hard, again - but he nodded. 'Alright - I'll stay.' He sat down on the daybed beside her - and it didn't escape his notice that she didn't release his hand...

* * *

'It's OK, It's OK,' Angel assured Cordelia. Her saw her fist swing towards his nose and caught it, mid air, 'don't hit me again, OK? I can explain everything.'

'You're evil! What's to explain?' She twisted in his grip, trying to free herself - but he held tight. 'I'm not evil,' he told her. 'Yeah - I'm a vampire. I didn't tell you before because you would never have believed me - but I don't… bite people.'

'You're a good vampire?' she sounded doubtful, 'you mean the cuddly kind? Like a carebear with fangs?'

'I don't know about that…'

'And I work for a vampire? Is that what you're telling me - and I'm OK with this?'

'Yeah - we've known each other for years now, we go way back. We're great friends.'

She snorted, disbelievingly. 'It's true,' he assured her, 'look, why don't we go back to the hotel and … I'll tell you everything. The whole story. You won't believe all of it but…' he shook his head, 'no more secrets, no more lies. What do you say?'

'I don't trust you.'

That hurt. But he tried not to show it. 'Look,' he said, keeping his voice even, 'you're lost - you don't have your purse. How are you gonna get home? Come back with me. I'll tell you everything and then take you back to your apartment.'

She hesitated - but he could tell she was considering it. There was not much else she could do. She _was_ lost. She _didn't_ have any money with her. She didn't remember where home was. Intense guy might try and kill her … but she didn't really have many other options but to trust him, right now. She sighed, deeply. 'OK,' - she said, 'but don't get too close.' He immediately took a step back and held his hands up - showing her there would be no touching. 'And no checking out my neck.' She began to walk off down the street, Angel by her side. 'So…' he said awkwardly, 'did you have a nice time - out in the city - alone?' he asked her.

'It was fine,' she said, defensively. 'Until some lowlifes tried to mug me.'

Angel looked startled, 'did they hurt you? Are you OK?'

'I'm fine.'

'How did you get away?'

She shrugged, 'kicked 'em in the goolies and ran.'

Angel thought back to the training sessions they had had together, before the summer. He nodded his head, 'that always was your patented move,' he told her.

* * *

When Angel ushered Cordelia back into the lobby of the Hyperion - it was to find his son still up, sitting on his playmat with a muscular, strangely familiar man. Doyle was sat on the daybed, holding hands with a lilac skinned demon woman. There was no sign of the rest of his crew.

'What's going on?' the vampire asked. Doyle looked up - saw Cordelia - and immediately sprang away from the demon woman; dropping her hand, as if he had been scalded, and scooching further along the sofa. 'Nothin',' he said, looking guilty, 'I mean - lotsa stuff. It's been a big night.'

'Why isn't Connor in bed? Where's Lorne?'

'Uh - it's been a big night, we should talk.'

Angel squinted at the musclebound stranger who was babysitting his son. 'Is that the Groosalug?' he asked, sounding confused, 'from Pylea?'

'Yeah - he got here a couple o' days ago. Groo?'

The champion looked at Doyle, 'what is it, most Noble Majesty?'

'Could you take Kalimania back to the motel?' he gestured to the demon woman, 'talk to the guy on the front desk - get her her own room. I'll be back after I've spoken to Angel.'

'I shall do as you request.' Before he got to his feet he turned back to Connor, 'it has been the greatest of honours sharing your great treasures with you, little friend, farewell.' Connor chuckled. 'Bye bye,' the baby said; waving his chubby, little fist, as the champion got up to go, 'bye bye.' Groo approached the demon woman, she was reluctant to leave - but the undefeated champion was most insistent. His Majesty wanted them both gone - and so the Groosalug would carry her out of there, if it proved necessary. It didn't. Faced with that threat - she got to her feet, but she looked at Doyle before she left. 'You're really coming - to where we're going, I mean?'

'Yeah,' he glanced at Cordelia, uncomfortably. But she didn't seem to be watching - she seemed to be staring vacantly around the lobby. He frowned. 'Yeah - I'll be there, once I've spoken to Angel.'

The Groosalug and Kalimania left. It was just the three of them, now. Both Angel and Doyle were looking awkward. The vampire went and picked up his son. 'So what happened tonight?'

'We were on a rescue mission - that demon girl - Kali, we saved her. There was a fire. It was a thing. Anyway, we brought her here for Cordy to patch up - only Cordy wasn't here, so Lorne offered to do it. He read her and … he freaked out, man, just got up and ran. He turned green - more green than usual.'

'He read something - saw something in her destiny?'

'Somethin' big - somethin' bad. Bad enough to freak out a professional psychic. I need to know what he saw…'

'I'll talk to him. I'll take Connor up and then I'll go and speak to him.' He glanced back at Cordelia. 'Wait here until I get back,' he said to her - then he went upstairs.

...

Doyle stood by the daybed, lamely, watching as Cordelia scanned the room. She really didn't seem like herself - it was worrying. 'Cordelia…' he began.

She stopped looking around her and concentrated on him. She fixed a big, bright smile on her face, 'hi,' she said.

'Uh - hi,' that wasn't the reception he had expected. 'Look,' he took a couple of steps towards her, 'when y' came in and I was... With that girl, Kali - holdin' her hand. That was nothin', yeah?'

Cordelia's smile began to falter, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

'It's just - she's been through a lot, tonight. Trauma. And it was me that rescued her and she's… clinging.' He shook his head, 'but I'm sure, once she's had time to adjust, she'll get over it and find me just as unappealing as every other woman does.' He took another step towards her - and fixed her in his gaze, his eyes pleading with her to understand. 'It really was nothin'.'

Cordelia frowned. She tilted her head to one side and looked at him, quizzically. 'Sorry,' she said to him, 'do I know you?'

* * *

After he'd put Connor down, Angel headed back down to the lower floor, where Lorne's room was. He knocked on the door. 'It's me.'

'Go away.'

'Lorne - talk to me. Doyle said you read that demon girl. That you saw something. If it's that bad - we need to know … I need to know.'

The door opened. Lorne stood there, SeaBreeze in hand. 'It's that bad,' he told the vampire, 'g'night.' He tried to shut the door - but Angel stopped him. 'I need details.'

'I got none,' the Host shook his head. 'I got none. Just a splitting migraine, a belly full of rattlesnakes and a strong suspicion that I'm gonna lose my lunch if I don't start drinking myself silly.' He tried to shut the door, again. Again, Angel stopped him. 'C'mon, Lorne - you gotta give me something.'

Lorne sighed, 'do the words 'slouching towards Bethlehem' ring a bell?' He asked. 'Or how about despair? Torment? Terror? That girl brings a world of pain for us, Angelcakes - but I can't tell you any more than that. What I saw was jumbled. It was pieces - flashes. It was enough to make my skin crawl away and scamper under the bed. Evil's coming, Angel. It's coming for us and it's planning on staying.'

'Is it her?' the vampire asked, 'can we just - y'know, kill her? Before evil comes to town?'

'She's an innocent,' the psychic demon answered, 'she isn't bringing this - but it's coming, nevertheless. You get rid of her … the chaos, the terror - it'll just find someone else to work through. There's nothing we can do but wait. Now - if you'll excuse me, I wanna wait in the dark, with my drink … under the bed covers.'

* * *

Doyle just stared at Cordelia - unsure what was going on. Unsure of what to say. She ran her eyes over him, scrutinising him, trying to place him in the blank void that was her mind. Her eyes travelled over his ugly shirt, which made her nose wrinkle a little in disgust, and then landed on the vast expanse of his exposed chest hair. Her eyes widened in recognition. 'Oh! I know you!' she told him, 'you're the other guy - in the picture. I'd folded the photo over so you couldn't be seen - so it was just me and Angie.'

'Angel,' Doyle corrected - his brow wrinkled in consternation.

'Whatever.' She stopped and looked confused, 'uh - do you know why I'd folded the photo so you were no longer in it?'

'I … guess - y' did it when we broke up? I dunno.'

Her eyes went even wider, 'we used to date? You and me?' She scanned him up and down again. 'Get out!'

'Yeah - for years.'

She snorted, 'you're not my type.'

'Cordelia … what's goin' on?'

'She's lost her memory,' Angel said - coming back down into the lobby. 'Doesn't remember anything. Not you. Not me. Not herself. She had some kind of head injury - the hospital don't know what's wrong, the scans show nothing's up … she's just … lost.'

'Well - what are you gonna do about it?' Doyle sounded outraged, 'y' can't just leave her like this!'

'We won't,' Angel replied, 'you don't have to worry about Cordy. She'll be looked after. You need to go home. That woman - what did you say her name was?'

'Kali - Kalimania.'

'Well - she's in big trouble. And she's gonna be sharing that trouble around. You need to keep an eye on her - keep her close. Keep her safe - until we know what's what.'

Doyle nodded. 'And Cordelia?' he asked.

'I'll think of something - you should go.'

The Irishman began to leave - but he kept casting worried glances back at his ex girlfriend - looking like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to stop and help make her better. But Angel kept his eyes on the half demon all the way to the door - and Doyle didn't dare protest. He knew the vampire would be pissed off, as it was, to find his son pretty much alone with one of his kidnappers. He didn't want to push his luck.

'It was nice meeting you!' Cordelia called to him, as he reached the front door. He stopped and looked back at her. He gave her a nod and a sad smile. 'Night, princess,' he said. Then he gave one last look to Angel - conveying with his eyes that he expected the vampire to move heaven and earth to fix Cordelia - and then he left.

...

'I really went out with that guy?' Cordelia asked, as the door swung shut behind him.

'For a long time,' Angel nodded, 'you were in love.'

She frowned, 'but I thought maybe we…' she trailed off and gestured between the two of them.

'It's complicated.'

She sighed, and dropped down on the round sofa, in the middle of the lobby. 'Well - whoever I am, I certainly don't have a boring life. That's something to be thankful for.' Her face screwed up, again. 'Really though? Me and him?'

'Really.'

She thought about it. 'Maybe he has hidden qualities. Is he rich?'

'No.'

'Famous?'

'No.'

'Does he have super powers?'

'Some really lame ones - look, Cordy, forget about him. You broke up - for good reason. He hurt you really badly.'

'Did he _cheat_?' She sounded outraged at the very thought - but she remembered how guilty he had looked when she had walked in and seen him with another woman.

'No - of course not.'

'Damn skippy.' She was relieved. She was pretty sure that, whoever Cordelia Chase was, she was not a woman who would put up with being cheated on. Or who could possibly lose the attention of a man she'd set her cap at. Especially not if the man in question was so short and badly dressed. 'So what did he do?'

'- He just … lied to you - broke your trust.'

'Like you've been doing - ever since I lost my memory?'

Angel sighed - he was hoping she wouldn't make that connection. 'I was trying to protect you,' he told her, 'trying to ease you in gently to the reality you live in. But … reality had other ideas. But - now you know - I'm gonna tell you everything.'

He sat down beside her and began to tell her the whole story - how they had met in Sunnydale, which was her home town and located on the mouth of hell, itself. How they had been part of a group that killed monsters, working with the vampire slayer - one girl in all the world with the strength and skill to fight the demons, the vampires and the forces of evil. How he and the slayer had fallen in love - how he had lost his soul, and got it back and come to L.A, to fight evil and atone for his crimes. He told her how she had come to L.A, after her parents lost their money. How she had been an aspiring actress - that she had had a pretty successful run of commercials. That she had met Angel, and they had teamed up with Doyle - who had visions of people in trouble - and together they helped the hopeless. He told her that their family had grown bigger - but the evil had grown bigger, as well and, eventually, Angel had found himself locked in a coffin and sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

Once he'd been rescued - they had gone on a family vacation to Vegas '... and that's when you lost your memory,' he told her. He reached out and took her hand. 'And this new demon woman - that Doyle has found - Lorne says she's bringing something with her. Something really bad. And - I need you to get your memories back, Cordy. I need you back.' He squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes - willing himself to see something there, some spark of recognition, some hint that she was still in there. 'I can't do this without you.'

* * *

**A/N next episode is 'supersymmetry' **


	17. Supersymmetry: Part One

**Supersymmetry**

_Part One_

Fred was screaming. The sound bounced all the way through the mostly deserted hotel, making Angel and Lorne glance up from what they were doing - and then look back down again. 'Ah Ah!' she jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Gunn caught her up in a hug. 'That's my girl!' he grinned, proudly, 'all right - hand this thing over, let me check it out.'

She handed him a copy of Modern Physics Review - her face lit up, her eyes shining with excitement. 'It's just a little article,' she explained - trying to downplay her achievement, and how excited she was, 'not like it's featured or anything.'

'Got it,' he sat on the bed and flicked to page 19. He started to read the title, but had trouble with the unfamiliar words, 'supersymmetry -'

'And P dimensional subspace. By Winifred Burkle,' the woman herself finished up. She looked at him - squinting at the article - and smiled, fondly. 'You don't have to read it.'

'Of course I'm gonna read it!' he protested, 'right now. In multidimensional superstring theory, uh …' he was distracted as Fred began to kiss him, but he soldiered on, 'distance scales inverted by T- duality...' the words were hard - and her kisses were soft, 'apply to heter - heterotic theories.' He gave in to her kisses and fell back on the bed, 'the pictures are nice,' he told her.

* * *

Lorne and Angel were down in the lobby - the green demon was going over the companies tax returns, as Cordelia was no longer in a position to do them, and Angel was hovering anxiously. 'You know - this is all a mess,' the Host told him, 'I got my horns in a twist just looking at this.'

'Cordy just, you know … gets it done usually.'

'Yeah - but her system? I'm sure it makes sense to her. But to those of us who try to use numbers sequentially and logically…'

'Her taxes are like her filing?'

'Big time - you know I know a guy - well, not so much a guy as a regurgitating flaheck demon … but he could cut through this tangle in no time. For a reasonable cost, too. He always did my Caritas accounts.'

'Yeah,' Angel shuffled awkwardly, 'if Cordy doesn't get her memory back soon, I'll think about it. And hey!' he pretended he had just thought of something, 'how about whilst you're reaching out into that demon underground thing you could…'

'No,' Lorne said, shortly.

'No?'

'Oh - you're about to ask me to read that poor girl again, or ask my contacts if they know anything, find out more about the whole 'slouching towards Bethlehem' thing.'

'I wasn't gonna just ask,' Angel said defensively.

'Well - good.'

'I was gonna build up to it - you know, subtly.'

'I appreciate that, sugar pie,' Lorne said, 'but that girl's future - it's dangerous. Just the knowledge of it is dangerous. And I don't wanna go around advertising the fact that we know something to all the bug uglies that go bump in the night, in this fair city. We need to sit tight - and see what happens.'

'But you saw something,' Angel said to him, 'if we just knew what it was…'

'Then all the big nasties would come looking to find out what I knew. I'm not a hero. I'm just a regular karaoke singing empath demon. I wish I could tell you what's coming and when, but...'

The vampire nodded. 'Hey - listen - if you won't look into this slight - apocalypse - situation we might be facing, could you maybe look into ways to help Cordy? Something big is coming, Lorne, and I need her back. In the meantime...' he turned his thoughts back to the possible impending apocalypse, 'I just hope Doyle and Wes are up to the job of protecting that girl, until whatever it is that's coming actually gets here.'

* * *

Doyle knocked on Kalimania's door. A few moments later, the demon woman opened it, pulling a robe around herself. She smiled when she saw who it was. 'Hi,' she greeted him, 'you wanna come in?' She opened the door wider to let him through, but he shook his head. 'No, it's OK. I just wanted to check you were doin' alright - that you settled in OK. I know this place isn't exactly the Ritz but…'

'No, it's great,' she assured him, still smiling warmly, 'I'm fine, here. Are you sure you don't wanna come in? I could make us some cocoa.'

'Nah - I don't wanna trouble y'...' he shuffled his feet awkwardly, whilst she told him it was no trouble at all. But again he refused. 'It's late,' he told her, 'I wanna get to sleep. I just wanted to make sure that you were doin' alright … after everything. That y' were … y'know … happy. Y'know, y' got nothin' to worry about - safety wise. The Groosalug is one o' the strongest champions I ever met. He'll make sure nothin' happens to y'.'

'I feel safe knowing you're around,' she told him.

He cleared his throat, blushed and then cleared his throat again. 'I'm not the hero around here,' he told her, uncomfortably.

'You were my hero.'

'Right … well…' he took a step back, in an attempt to create more distance between them. 'If there's nothin' y' need, then, I'll just be off. G'night.' He backed away a few more steps and then turned and scuttled back to his room. Kali watched him go, until his own motel room door shut - then she went back inside, smiling to herself.

* * *

Cordelia was annoyed. She tugged the cupboards open above her head and peered into them. But she couldn't find what she was looking for - a coffee cup - and so she bent down and yanked the cupboard beneath the counter open.

There were lots of things that sucked about amnesia: not feeling any connection to her name; not recognising her friends; knowing next to nothing about her own personal history. But alongside all that was the little irritations too. Like not remembering where she kept anything in her kitchen.

There were no cups in this cupboard either - but there was sugar. She grabbed that and stood back up - forgetting about the door she had left open just above her head. As her body straightened - and the top of her head was just an inch away from banging into the door, it suddenly slammed itself shut. She jumped back in alarm, relieved to have avoided hurting herself … but not quite sure what had happened.

'Damnit,' she said, putting the sugar down on the counter, 'cups cups cups - where would I keep them?' She turned around to check another cupboard - still nothing. The teakettle on her stove began to whistle, telling her the water was ready. She turned to deal with that - and noticed a mug sitting next to the bag of sugar. She frowned. That had not been there a moment ago.

She looked around. 'Hello?' she called out, 'is there someone in here? Hello? Angie? I mean … Angel? Is that you? Are you sneaking in my kitchen when I'm not looking? - 'cause that's … not appropriate.' She turned back. The water had now been poured into her cup - she picked it up and sniffed suspiciously - ginger and lemon - just what she had been craving! Except she didn't know where the herbal teas were kept. She took a sip. It was perfect. Her face crinkled into a frown. 'Hello?' she wandered back through her apartment - looking for some sign that she wasn't alone. Behind her, left alone in the kitchen, Dennis put the teabags and sugar away and switched off the stove.

* * *

When Angel came down the stairs, the next morning, it was to find Gunn crashed on the sofa - looking exhausted - and Fred and Lorne in his own office. 'You don't wanna go in there,' Gunn warned him, blearily - when he noticed the vampire's eyes stray to the window through which the other team members were visible. 'Girl kept me up all night. She's unstoppable.'

'More than I needed to know,' Angel replied, stiffly.

Fred looked up, spotted Angel through the window and came running out of the office, grinning. 'Did he tell you?' she asked, excitedly.

Angel looked startled and uncomfortable, 'well … he didn't _describe_ it.'

'I've been asked to present my article at the Physics Institute,' she told him - her smile growing ever wider. 'P-dimensional subspace has always been a fascinating area, but I had no idea there would be so much interest. Can I practice my speech for you? I think Lorne's a little conked.' She scuttled back towards the office - Angel shot a glance at Gunn, who shrugged. 'That. All night. Well, mostly that.'

'I didn't know Fred was getting back into physics.'

'Yeah - I don't think she wanted anyone to know. She was afraid she'd lost the knack.'

'She seems to be over that.'

Gunn hauled himself to his feet and the two men followed her into the office. Lorne was slumped in a chair - trying to look interested - and failing, miserably.

'It's nothing big, really,' Fred told them - as they each took a seat and tried to focus their mind on … whatever the hell this was all about. 'Just a little breakthrough on quantum particles - emphasis on little. Probably be disproved in no time. It's just … I used to dream I'd discover some revolutionary new concept and…' she smiled, bashfully and looked down, 'oh it's silly, really.'

'Doesn't sound silly,' Angel told her.

She looked up and gave him a grateful smile. 'I guess, I just wanted all those people I looked up to - I wanted 'em to see me too. Then I got sucked into a Pylea and, well, when you're a cow-slave you don't want anyone to see you at all.'

'Everybody will be looking at you now,' Gunn told her. His tone was proud - but his words made Fred look more nervous than before. 'I gotta practice! You'll all be there?'

The men all looked at each other, uncertainly. Gunn gave her a big grin,'cheering you on,' he said encouragingly, 'right?' he asked the other two. Angel and Lorne looked less enthusiastic. 'You know - someone's gonna have to stay to look after Connor,' Angel started to say. Lorne interrupted him, 'and with this garden hue - my vote is me,' he indicated his green skin, 'I can't turn up in a room full of scientists with my horns on display! I'll look after the little nipper. Angel - you can go - learn science.'

The vampire glared at the anagogic demon and then turned back to Fred with a false grin held firmly in place. 'Can't wait,' he told her.

* * *

Cordelia looked through her wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear. 'I have some pretty important shoes,' she said out loud. She picked up a pair of Gucci loafers, 'how can I even afford these?' She considered them for a moment, 'but they will be _to die for _with my tight, black capri pants and super luscious peau de soie blouse … I guess maybe I just save up for statement pieces?' She took the mentioned items from her wardrobe and put them on, nodding to herself. 'Pretty hot,' she told her reflection, 'y'know - maybe I'd feel more like me if I went out and … bought something else. You know… just something pretty - to add to my collection. Make me feel like … Cordelia.'

She nodded, she had talked herself into it. She was going shopping. Grabbing her purse, she left her apartment and headed for Melrose Avenue in West Hollywood. Once the door had shut behind her, Dennis closed up her wardrobe and then washed up her breakfast things. She was always so messy - and he missed her knowing he was there.

* * *

Cordelia had started at the far end of the road and was working her way back towards Hollywood. After a few hours she had acquired more than a couple of bags from fancy boutiques and was beginning to feel ready for a break. Laden down with her spoils, she entered into a coffee shop and ordered herself a half caf skinny latte. When she turned around there was someone standing just a couple of paces behind her, eyeing her shopping with a fond smile on his face. 'Been busy?' Doyle asked her, nodding at her bags.

'Oh…' she squinted at him, 'hey - I know you, we met at the hotel.'

'Doyle,' he told her, 'yeah .. we've met.' He stepped up to the counter to order his own coffee and once he was done he turned back to look at her, 'so - have you had a nice time today, shoppin'?'

'Yeah it's been great. At least three stores had sales on and I bought the most to die for vintage peasant blouse with a peacock motif ...and you really don't care, do you?'

Doyle's smile had grown warmer and more loving the longer she spoke, 'no!' he protested, 'I care!' he turned and took his coffee off the barista and then led Cordy over to a table, 'it's good that you had a good time. You must be feeling more like yourself.'

'I guess I'm a menace with a credit card, huh?'

'No way! You're a financial whizz. You know what everythin' costs and you save up until y' can get it. You … y' take the research into your important items very seriously, darlin'. And you've got a great eye for a bargain.'

'That's a nice way of saying I'm a shallow ditz, isn't it?'

'Why is it shallow if you like pretty things? You also save lives on a regular basis. You can be multilayered, Cordelia. You don't have to be deadly serious all the time just 'cause you're a hero.'

'Huh,' she thought about his words. 'So - are you deadly serious all the time?'

'I'm a drunk,' he admitted, 'and I have a pretty bad gamblin' addiction. Pretty much a lowlife, if I'm honest with y'. I like a good time.'

'Angie - Angel seems like he's deadly serious all the time.'

'Oh yeah - Angel is.' Doyle chuckled, 'the dark avenger is terribly earnest and very intense.'

'The dark avenger?' she threw back her head and laughed. 'That's a great name for him. You came up with that?'

'No, Princess - you did.'

'Oh,' she looked down into her coffee, 'I don't remember,' she said quietly. Then she looked back up, 'hang on a minute - you're a _drunk?_ _And_ a gambler? And we used to _date?_'

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Wes knew who it would be. He ignored it. But the knocker was persistent - and in the end he went and opened it. 'Surprise!' It was Lilah - of course, and she was carrying a large, gift wrapped box.

'What's this?' he asked her, sounding suspicious, though he stood back to let her in. 'a bribe? A setup?'

'Can't it just be a gift?' she asked him, then she smiled, 'open it.'

He did so, and took out an antique helmet from a medieval suit of armour. It was an object of beauty - and a rarity in private possession. He stared at it, appreciating the weight and the history - and wondering who might have worn it once upon a time, and on which battlefield.

'We seem to be butting heads, lately,' Lilah smiled at him, 'now you'll have the advantage.' She watched his expression closely. It had hurt - when he had thrown her out, for no apparent reason, the other night. She wanted things to be alright between them. She wanted him to appreciate her. Well, at least he seemed to appreciate the helmet. 'This must have cost a fortune!' his tone was one of awe.

'Yes,' she agreed. 'It'll take hours for you to thank me properly.' She kissed him, 'luckily, I took the afternoon off.'

But Wesley pulled away from her. 'I have to leave, actually. But thank you, Lilah, for the gift.' He turned and walked out of the apartment. The young attorney stared after him in frustration. She began to tidy up the gift wrapping - and her eyes fell on the magazine that Wesley had been reading. It was the Modern Physics Review - and it was open on Fred's article. At the bottom of the page was printed the details of Fred's upcoming speech.

* * *

'Well - I fell into some pretty bad habits,' Doyle admitted to Cordelia, 'but you were an amazing, stabilisin' influence on me. I really cleaned up my act and then we began to date. And it was really good - for ages, we were really happy.'

'So what happened?' Cordelia asked, frowning.

'I betrayed you,' Doyle told her, bluntly. 'I lied - told lots o' lies in fact. Y' see - me and Wes, who I work with, we found a prophecy about Angel and his son - about how Angel was gonna kill him. So - Wes took Connor away and I covered for him. And I didn't tell you what I was doin' - 'cause I knew you wouldn't agree with it. When everyone found out … it was bad. You kicked me out - which I pretty much deserved - and you moved on to Angel.'

'So … I _am_ with Angel now?'

Doyle sighed, heavily. 'I don't know, love. We're ex - you don't exactly fill me in on what's goin' on in your life, anymore.'

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. 'Well, thanks,' she said. He looked surprised. 'For being honest,' she explained, 'for just telling me what happened - straight. Angel keeps lying or - being cagey - about stuff. He's trying to protect me, I guess, but … I can't get a straight answer from him. It leaves me even more confused. I appreciate that you told me the truth - even if the truth is painful, and doesn't leave you looking in a good light.'

'I've lied to you enough, already. I don't wanna ever do that again.'

She smiled, and squeezed his hand, again. 'It feels really good to talk to someone who is willing to give me answers,' she told him, 'it makes me feel less alone.'

Doyle sighed, and gently disengaged his hand from her's. She looked surprised. 'Look, princess,' he said heavily, 'I hurt you - really badly. You - when you're yourself - you're really angry with me. Rightfully so, I hasten to add. It feels - more wonderful that I can tell y' - to have you sit here and talk to me and not be wishin' me dead. I miss you, so much, Cordelia. It hurts all the time. But … when you get your memory back - you'll hate me again. You'll realise that everythin' y' just said about bein' able to trust me is… wrong. I can't … I can't take advantage of you not remembering who I am and what I did. And you shouldn't trust me just 'cause y' don't remember the betrayal.'

Cordelia was beginning to look downcast - like she was getting the brush off and she didn't like it. He sighed again. 'Listen,' he told her, 'I will always care about you - and I always wanna be there for you … even if y' don't want me to be. So - have y' got your cell?' She nodded and took it from her purse. He took it from her and scrolled through her contact list, 'here,' he said, showing her, 'this is where I am in your phone. If you ever need me - you can call me and I'll come runnin' to help. And then - when you remember who you are and how much you hate me - you can delete me.'

'What if I don't want to delete you?'

He chuckled, 'believe me, you do.' He drained the last of his coffee. 'Well, it's been real nice spendin' time with y', Cordelia. I really do miss this. But you should get home before it gets dark.' He got up from his seat, 'I'll see you around, yeah?' And with one last, lingering look and a sad smile, he walked out of the coffee shop.

Cordelia stayed where she was - and stared after him. For all his words, his warnings that she could not trust him had only had the opposite effect on her.

* * *

Angel, Fred and Gunn arrived at the Physics Institute. The place was filled up with grad students and professors - all waiting for the talk. Seeing them all, Fred began to look increasingly nervous. 'Are these all here to see you?' Gunn asked her sounding impressed. She shook her head, 'I'm just a minor speaker.' There was a catch in her voice, a tremble that betrayed her nerves.

Her boyfriend smiled at her, encouragingly, 'listen up - all that stuff about particles and … stuff. It's gonna blow 'em away. Nothing to worry about.'

'Well, what if my theory's wrong?' She scanned the throng of people, a rabbit in the headlights expression on her face. She would be stood up on the stage, soon enough - in front of all these people - and what if they laughed at her? What if she had lost it? What if… her frightened buzz of thoughts was interrupted when she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. 'Professor Seidel!' she called, waving.

'Winifred!' He smiled, warmly, when she scuttled up to him. He turned and spoke to his assistant - telling her he would meet her in the lab and then turned back to look at Fred. 'There you are! It's been - what? Two years or so?'

'Yeah,' Fred was beaming, 'heavy on the or so. Wow. It is great to see you. Are you gonna be in there?'

'I'm introducing you,' he told her. 'I had to arm wrestle the head of the department for the honour.'

Fred looked alarmed, 'oh,' - but he was quick to reassure her. 'You've done some great work, Winifred, you don't have anything to worry about.'

In the meantime, Angel and Gunn had sidled up beside Fred - and now Gunn cleared his throat, pointedly - awaiting introduction. 'Oh,' Fred gave a flustered look between the man from her old life and the men from her new. 'These are my friends, Charles and Angel.' The men all shook hands.

'I was gonna be a history major,' Fred told them, 'but then I took Professor Seidel's class - and ...well...'

'Winifred's a natural,' the professor told them, 'by the end of the semester she was taking on W.I.M.P.S.'

'You should see her now,' Gunn said, proudly, 'hell of a left hook.'

Fred looked embarrassed, 'W.I.M.P.S are Weakly Interactive Massive Particles,' she told her boyfriend. It was Gunn's turn to look embarrassed. He chuckled, nervously, 'oh yeah .. uh .. just kidding.'

As Seidel and Fred continued their physics talk, Angel and Gunn became more and more uncomfortable - as they were edged out of a conversation they could not follow. Angel backed away and headed for the auditorium, claiming he would save them some seats - leaving Charles to stand there awkwardly like a third wheel.

'I'd love to talk to you about your article,' Seidel was saying, 'why don't you stop by my office sometime and discuss it?'

'Is tomorrow too soon?' she asked eagerly.

'Tomorrow's perfect.' They both headed into the auditorium - not even looking back at Gunn, who continued to stand around looking awkward.

* * *

Angel went down to near the front. On his way he bumped into some kid wearing a 'Thwack' t-shirt. The kid apologised and moved off and Angel glanced around the room. He spotted Wesley right at the back, sitting in the corner, but he said nothing - didn't let on that he'd seen . As he took his seat, Fred and the professor came past - still talking physics. Shortly afterwards, Gunn joined him. 'Listen, man,' the street fighter said, 'I'm gonna need simultaneous translating on this. Like the president with the Russians. But only give me the highlights.'

'No problem,' the vampire agreed, 'of course, I have no idea what she's talking about.'

'Will you tell Fred that? If she thinks we're both stupid, I won't stand out as much.'

Just then, the lights dimmed and a spotlight shone down on the stage. Professor Seidel approached the podium. He began to introduce Fred - outlining her accomplishments as a student, and the elegant insights of her new theory. As he spoke, Lilah entered the auditorium and looked around, scanning the audience. She spotted Wesley in his corner.

When the professor stopped talking, there was a smattering of applause and then Fred stepped, nervously, up to the podium. She looked at the index cards in her hand. 'Thank you, professor,' she held the card up, 'this one just says open with joke - but I forgot to think of one. Of course it's possible my theory will take care of that.' The audience laughed, but rather than relaxing at this minor success, Fred began to tense up - 'There are - um - there are several competing dimensional theories, ' she told the audience. 'And, while each provide insights, physicists have long searched for a unifying theory—one that can account for both the behaviour of the smallest sub-atomic particles and the largest forces of nature.'

...

Lilah took out her cell phone and began to dial as she headed back up the stairs and out of the room. Down in his seat, Angel noticed her leave.

...

'If space-time can undergo massive rearrangement of its structure, which I believe it can, tearing and reconnecting according to a pre-determined disposition, then T-duality would allow for the compactification of extra space dimensions,' Fred continued. Above her the air began to shimmer and distort, but she didn't notice. 'Consider the non-perturbitive properties of superstring theory.' The audience were beginning to sense something was wrong, though Fred remained oblivious. The guy in the Thwack t-shirt took out his camera and began to take pictures of the space above Fred's head - where the light was bending in an unnatural manner. A wind began to whip up. 'In D-Branes, especially as applied to Dirichlet boundary conditions with dual open strings that are T-transformed... This, in turn, leads to the conclusion that strings can only end in P-dimensional dynamical—' Finally, Fred looked up from her cards and realised something was wrong. As she turned to look upwards, there was a sudden crack of lightning - and a portal opened directly above her.

As the opening between dimensions swirled and howled - a many headed giant snake came pushing its way through the walls of the world. The audience began to gasp. Professor Seidel fell off his seat, on the stage, and backed away. But Fred stood still - transfixed in horror.

Angel and Gunn leapt to their feet and rushed towards her. But they were too late. The many headed hydra demon snapped its jaws and coiled itself around Fred's body - snatching her up and pulling her back towards the portal…


	18. Supersymmetry: Part Two

_Part Two_

Fred was wrapped tightly in the grip of the snake beast. She struggled and screamed, but it was too strong and it was pulling her closer to the screaming vortex that would vanish her from this world, yet again. The people in the audience had scrambled to their feet and were fleeing in the wake of the monster. Only one man - the kid in the thwack t-shirt - stayed behind, still taking photographs. Gripping a small blade, Wesley tried to reach the stage, but he had been at the very back of the room and was trying to fight against the tide of the mass exodus.

Gunn and Angel, from their starting position of much nearer the front, were able to reach the stage much quicker. Angel immediately began to fight the monster - using the microphone stand to beat it, whilst Gunn grabbed hold of Fred and attempted to yank her out of the grip of the snake.

The snake had grabbed hold of Angel, with another coil of its body, and was gripping him around the throat. Angel struggled in its grasp, 'yeah - vampire,' he said, 'strangling… not gonna happen.' He reached for a dagger strapped to his ankle and slashed at the coil that held him. He severed the part of the monster that was holding him and fell to the ground.

With a final pull, as the snake screamed in pain, Gunn was able to yank Fred free - and they too crumpled to the ground. Wesley had only just reached the stage - when the screeching snake retreated upwards and the portal closed.

Gunn and Fred lay on the stage together. Fred clinging to him for dear life. 'It's over, baby,' he said, 'I got you.' But Fred's eyes were wide and staring and she still shook with fear.

* * *

Having followed Wesley, Lilah had only found that her worst fears were confirmed - so she was not in a good mood, as she drove through the parking lot beneath the Physics institute. As she reached the barrier and came to a stop - so the barrier could lift - there was a sudden crunching noise and the top of her Mercedes was suddenly torn away. She stood up in the driver's seat and peered out through what once had been the sunroof - looking at the damage.

'That's neat,' the vampire said, 'the top comes right off.' She sighed - Angel, of course. On top of everything else this was just … _perfect_.

'And are you just perfecting your Hulk smash for fun?' she asked him, witheringly, 'or is there a reason you decided to land yourself with thousands of dollars worth of repair bills?'

He gripped her round the throat. She tensed - but she had been here too often before to be really scared. 'Yeah there's a couple of questions I just wanna ask,' Angel said to her, 'like why did a portal open up right over Fred's head, just after you'd slithered out of the auditorium?'

Even with his hand at her throat - this news made her smile. 'Did tragedy strike Gidget?' she asked - genuinely delighted. She put on a southern drawl, 'Did she go to that place in the big Texas sky?'

'Gunn and I took care of it,' he answered. 'Of course, if we hadn't have been there, I'm sure your good friend Wesley would have stepped right in.' That blow hit home - and Lilah scowled. 'Come on, if I were gonna kill the twig would I do it in a room full of people and then make a conspicuous getaway so I looked extra suspicious?'

'Add videotape - sounds like vintage Wolfram and Hart.'

She shrugged - he could posture all he liked, she didn't know what he was talking about. Angel read her expression. 'Except this time someone else deserves the credit,' he realised, removing his grip from around her neck.

'You're quick,' her tone was acidic, 'and I'll be sending you that repair bill.' As the vampire backed off, she sat back down in the driver's seat, put her foot to the gas and sped off.

* * *

Cordelia arrived back at her apartment and put her shopping bags down on the sofa. She slid her shoes off - her important Gucci loafers - and sank down onto the couch. 'Boy - I'm wiped,' she said out loud. 'Probably should have put my things away, made a drink before I just collapsed.' She looked down at the squishy sofa,''cause I'm not getting up any time soon,' she realised. In the kitchen - she heard the sound of the kettle on the stove, she frowned. Then she decided she was probably hearing things, and instead turned to examine her purchases.

'Aha - prizes!' she cawed to herself, pulling out a chiffon, collarless blouse that had been reduced in price by a third. She held it up and admired it, and then took out a blue minidress and the peasant top she had told Doyle about. She hugged the clothes to her chest, 'yes! I love my new clothes!' she celebrated, scrunching her eyes closed and shoulder shimmying in delight.

She opened her eyes to see her important Gucci loafers moving - as if by themselves - from the messy heap where she had kicked them off, to being placed in a neat pair just beneath the sofa. She screamed and leapt to her feet - standing on the couch, as if she had seen a mouse, and peering down at the floor. In the kitchen, the kettle finished boiling and let out a piercing whistle to let her know it was done. She screamed again - her yells mingling with the singing of the kettle.

* * *

Doyle and the Groosalug took Doyle's usual beat round Downtown - skirting, but never actually passing, the old office building where the half demon had been so happy. Wesley was noticeable only by his absence - again, but it didn't really matter. Groo was champion enough to face down and kill any bug ugly that crossed their paths - and Doyle could make sure that the less than intellectual hero didn't get lost in the big city. They only really needed Wesley if they needed his books - which they didn't for basic patrol.

They had come across a group of vampires in an alleyway - the demons had taken a young woman off the street and it was her screams that had led the pair straight to them. The Groosalug had ripped right through them - staking two before they had even realised that he was there and then picking the third up and lifting him high above his head - and then hurling him down the alley. The vampire landed in a crumpled heap, groaning, and the undefeated champion closed in for the kill.

With barely a glance towards the skirmish, Doyle went straight to the side of the woman. 'You OK?' he asked her. She was breathing hard - her eyes were wide and staring and she gripped the side of her throat, where she had been torn into. 'Here, lemme see that,' the Irishman said - carefully moving her hand away. She just stood there - frozen. Doyle put his own hand in his jacket pocket and brought out an antiseptic wipe. He ripped it open and began to clean her wound. Then he dug into his pocket again and brought out a large roll of gauze and some tape. He ripped the gauze and then taped it onto her neck.

Her heart had stopped hammering quite so violently now, her breathing was still rapid - but slowing. 'What - what were those things?' she asked, watching as the final vampire turned to dust.

'You probably don't wanna know,' the Irishman told her, 'just maybe - think about wearing a cross as a necklace in future, yeah?' She stared at him - like he was mad - and put her hand up to her bandaged wound. 'How come you just had that stuff on you?' she asked.

Doyle sighed, 'I was taught simple first aid by someone very talented - once upon a long time ago. And now I never leave the house without some basic kit.'

She breathed a ragged laugh, 'like a boy scout? Always prepared?'

'Ah - I'm far too drunk to be a boy scout. You OK getting home?' he asked her, as the Groosalug reappeared at his side. She nodded, turned and fled down the alley way. The men watched her go. 'Vantals are surely the lowest of creatures,' the Groosalug said, once she was gone.

'They're pretty low - yep,' Doyle agreed. 'That's why it's our job to kill 'em, to protect people like her,' he indicated the direction the woman had taken.

'But they are not the only danger in your strange world,' Groo said, as they began to head back to the main road, 'the demons and creatures that prey on mankind are many. There is worse out there than the vantals.'

'Yep - vampires, they're nasty blood suckers. No moral compass - use humans as prey. But poke 'em with a stick and they die. There are greater dangers out there.'

'Like the dangers facing Kalimania,' Groo said, 'that is why you keep her with us, at our lodgings?'

They reached the road and began to walk down it - Doyle turning them down the next street to avoid the block with his old office on it. Soon he would have circled the building completely - and not seen it once. He sighed, 'yeah - Kalimania's in danger, alright. Big time. Lorne … well I guess you probably understand his powers, seein' as how he gets 'em from your world and all, but - he saw somethin'. Somethin' bad, undefined - and headed straight for her - for all of us.'

'And now it is our duty to protect her.'

Doyle shrugged, 'someone's gotta - and seein' as how we're the ones who took her out of Dorion's and then discovered her terrifyin' destiny - I guess we're the responsible party. Whatever's comin' - she's gonna have it tough, we owe it to her to try our best to help her…' He glanced up at the taller man's face, noting how his handsome features had twisted into an expression of confusion mixed with thoughtfulness.

The Groosalug was trying to understand - but he thought in terms too simple to really grasp the complexity of destiny and balancing the scales and everything they dealt with on a daily basis, here on earth. But he was a good man - so Doyle decided to make it simple for him. 'You know,' he said, 'I'm glad you came here - Groo. Maybe somethin' bigger is tryin' to help us - sendin' us an undefeated champion right when we needed one. Kali - she's grateful to me for savin' her from the fire, but the truth is - I'm not the hero. I'm not the brave one, the warrior. I'm not the one that can protect her. You are. It would be a real favour, to me, if you could do everythin' in your power to protect her- from whatever danger comes her way.'

The Groosalug nodded gravely. 'As his Majesty wishes. It will be my honour to do everything in my power to keep Kalimania from harm.'

* * *

Cordelia had been stranded, standing on the sofa for half an hour. This was ridiculous. She had to move. But damned if she was going down there with the creepy self moving shoes. She gathered up her bags, and then stepped onto the coffee table. From there - she stood on the far edge of the surface and then reached out her left foot - stretching it as far as she could - until she had made contact with the rattan chair, across the room. Then she hopped the short gap onto it. It was right by the door to her bedroom - and she peered round into the dark space. She took a deep breath - clutched her shopping bags tightly - and launched herself into the darkness, headed for the bed.

As she flumped down onto the mattress, the light in the bedroom suddenly switched itself on. She screamed - again. Then she stared around the room … she had left this place a mess this morning, pulling clothes and shoes out of the closet - but now it was tidy, once more. She scuttled up to the top of the bed and pulled her legs in towards her body - she hugged her knees - and glanced around, her eyes darting frantically. 'I know you're there - whatever you are,' she said to the room. 'And you're not scaring me- you know - you're not scaring me … not one bit.'

* * *

When Angel, Fred and Gunn arrived back at the hotel, Gunn took Fred straight up to their room. She was still silent - still frozen with shock. She had said nothing on the way home, barely moved. Her body was stiff, her skin was pale and her eyes - her eyes betrayed the full extent of her fear and horror. Gunn just wanted to get her to go to sleep - see that things would be different in the morning, make her feel better. The pair of them didn't even say 'night' before they went up.

Angel followed up the stairs more slowly. He headed towards his own suite of rooms - where Lorne was babysitting Connor for the evening. 'Here's papa,' he heard the green demon say, 'daddy went out to learn science so we didn't have to, wasn't that kind of him?' He looked up and saw Angel's face, 'dear lord - was it really that bad?'

The vampire shook himself, 'no - I mean - yes, I didn't understand a word of it … but I didn't get to hear a whole lot what with a giant portal opening up and a snake monster trying to drag Fred back inside.'

'Freddikins? Is she…?'

'She's fine - or at least - she's still here. I think 'fine' might be pushing it. She didn't say a word on the journey home.'

'Fred and another portal ...You thinking coincidence? Or Conspiracy?'

'There are two things in this world that I don't believe in, Lorne - coincidence - and leprechauns.'

'How can you say that when we got our very own little, green, Irish stud muffin in our ranks? … Former ranks.'

'OK - but I'm right about the coincidence thing.'

Lorne smiled, 'so what are you gonna do?'

'Fix it,' Angel shrugged, 'tomorrow - Gunn and I will … fix it. Hey Lorne.' The green demon had been heading out, but he stopped and turned. 'You remember what I said about Cordy?' Angel said to him, 'you'll find a way to help her?'

'I'll look into it first thing,' Lorne promised, 'you fix Fred - I'll fix Cordy. Night Night.' The door swung closed behind him.

* * *

Gunn woke in the early hours of the morning. The bed was cold beside him - and empty. There was a muttering sound coming from across the room - and he rolled over, squinting into the darkness to see what was going on. Fred was up, her nose pressed against the wall, a marker pen in her hand - she was muttering to herself as she feverishly scribbled on the walls. Just like she had when she had first returned from Pylea.

Gunn got out of bed and padded gently across to her. 'Fred?'

'P versus NP, where NP is nondeterministic polynomial time. This is NP. Lost time. Time spent.' She didn't turn to look at him. He gazed at her writing. 'Yeah - never did like the paint in here. Let's redecorate. Make it really ours.'

'I couldn't sleep,' she told him. He nodded. He got it. But she had nothing to worry about - she wasn't going back to Pylea.

'Every time I close my eyes,' she told him, 'it's like - it's happening again.'

'I know baby.'

She broke away from him and began to pace. 'Five years of hiding in caves and scrounging for food.' She touched her neck, 'wearing that collar - you don't know! You couldn't.'

He tried to reassure her - she wasn't going back, she was safe now. But it didn't work. She had been safe in the library - until she had read from that book. He went over to her and gently took hold of her elbow, leading her back into bed, trying to assure her that she would feel better tomorrow. But that only opened up a new vein of thinking. 'Tomorrow!' she said, sounding panicked, 'which as of now is today, which means…'

'You'll go and see your professor - just like you planned,' He led her into the bed and then got in beside her. But she was still fretting. She couldn't go to see him - not like this. He'd seen the portal, what would he think? What would he think of her?

'He'll think you're incredibly brilliant,' Gunn told her, 'just like I do.' He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, 'Go, OK? Forget about this and talk about strings and W.I.M.P.S and whatever. Angel and I will take care of all the demony portal stuff - no problem.' He kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes. But Fred's eyes stayed open - wide and staring - and she did not sleep.

* * *

When Gunn came downstairs the next morning, it was to find Angel setting out every chair he could get his hands on in rows in the lobby. 'Great, my girl's not the only one redecorating.'

'You were there,' Angel said by way of greeting, pointing to a chair in the second row. 'OK,' Gunn sat down, 'what we doin'? Playing musical chairs?'

But Angel ignored him and pointed to another chair, 'nerdy guy,' he said - before pointing at another space, 'older nerdy guy.' He pointed again, 'girl in black, there.'

Gunn nodded his head - he was catching on. Understanding what Angel was trying to do. He wrinkled his brow, 'how come you've never pulled out this party trick before?'

'It's not an automatic reflex,' Angel told him, still scanning the empty seats and trying to rebuild the seating plan in his mind. 'It just kicked in when I saw Lilah.'

'Hold up, Lilah was there?' he leaned forward in his seat - surely, this was case closed? 'Not a huge leap thinking she opened the portal.' But Angel shook his head. He remembered the way she had scanned the auditorium, what it was her eyes had settled upon. She had been following Wesley - he was her only interest in all this.

'Wesley?' Gunn was incredulous - and a bit annoyed, 'he came to see-'

'He was waiting,' Angel interrupted.

'Wesley?'

'Guy in the second row, centre seat,' Angel said - remembering the man who had bumped into him. He had worn a tan t-shirt that said 'thwack' on it - and he had had a camera. He had been taking pictures.

Gunn listened - he knew where he thought this guy might be found, and he was headed there right now - because when his girl wasn't happy …

* * *

'...I'm not happy!' Gunn yelled, grabbing the kid by his tan t-shirt and then throwing him against the comic book stand. He had brought Angel to 'Thwack Comics' - and sure enough, there was the kid with the camera. 'You were taking pictures of my girlfriend,' Gunn menaced, 'why?' He shoved the kid again and then let go.

The kid looked startled, 'because the ceiling was, like, ripping apart,' he answered.

'Why were you there?' Angel asked him, 'you normally run with the physics crowd?'

But the kid shook his head. That wasn't his scene, no, but he wanted to see if it was true. If she was really one of them. One of the students who had disappeared.

Gunn glowered at him, 'one of?' he asked.

* * *

Fred and the Professor walked through the lab - headed for his office. After the portal of the night before, she was telling him about Pylea - and Quortoth - and what they were like. Seidel looked astounded, 'Fred, I'm a theoretical physicist. I'm open to the idea of other dimensions - but you're naming them!'

'I know. It took me a while to believe it too - and I was there.'

They walked through into his office - his desk was cluttered with papers, and one wall was entirely bookcases. He went to a filing cabinet and took something out. 'I've been holding on to something for you,' he said - passing an exam paper across to Fred. She looked down at it. 'The last test I took before …' she noticed the grade and frowned, 'A minus?'

'Well - I would have given another student an A plus - but with you, I had to use a different standard.' He balanced himself on the edge of his desk and smiled at her. 'I'd like another crack at it,' he said to her, 'teaching you, You have a gift - it shouldn't be wasted.'

Fred was unsure what to say. It had been so long. Writing the article had been great … but she had another life now, a different life.

'Sounds like it's one you just sort of stumbled into,' he said to her, 'not one you chose.'

'I guess it kinda chose me.'

He surveyed her - but not unkindly - and after a moment he spoke again. 'I don't know what I saw yesterday,' he began, 'there have been studies about subconscious suggestion, mass hysteria … but I know what I see right now.'

'You do?' Fred sounded doubtful.

'A very talented young woman who deserves to live in the world she was meant for.'

* * *

'You know how it is,' the kid from the comic store told Angel and Gunn, 'you hear things, like from the friend of a friend's roommate. You don't know if they're really true.' He pointed at Angel, who had picked up a comic book and was flicking through it. 'Like, you're Angel, right?' He said. 'There are whole forums on you in chat rooms, man - who knew you actually, like, existed!'

Angel had looked up from his comic and was looking pleasantly surprised at finding out he was internet famous. Gunn was beginning to look annoyed though. 'The disappearances?' He prompted.

The store clerk nodded, 'there were three before your girlfriend and one since.'

'What do you know?' the vampire asked. But that was pretty much it. It was all just rumours. They had all been science types - and the kidnappings were not your everyday fare … but he had no proof. The two men nodded and walked off. Angel's face was still delighted, 'they talk about me in the chatty rooms?' he whispered, as they left.

* * *

Fred and Seidel's conversation was cut short by his assistant poking her head round the door and telling him the oscillator had tweaked again. The professor sighed and got up to fix it, but before he left the room he asked Fred to write down her phone number. He grabbed a paper and pen from his cluttered desk, 'I don't wanna lose track of you for another six years,' he said. She glanced down at the mess of papers and giggled. He smiled back, 'you laugh - but I have my systems.' He left the room.

Fred stood by the desk and scribbled down her phone number. When she was done, she turned and found herself facing his overflowing bookshelves. She began to scan some of the titles - looking for ones published since she got sent to Pylea. Her eyes landed on one particular title. 'Plasma and fluid turbulence,' she read, 'in with the neutrinos?' she shook her head and took it off the shelf, 'that's just wrong.' She intended to find a more apposite part of the bookshelf for it, and put it where it belonged - but before she did, she flipped it open to have a look at its contents.

She began to frown - and flipped through some more pages. The book was covered in symbols, strange and unfamiliar - and wholly unrelated to science. She flipped another page - and found a drawing of the exact same many headed snake who had attacked her from the portal the night before. She froze - the implications of her find whirred through her mind, she analysed the data and constructed her theorem. Then, she heard the sound of Seidel returning to the office. Panicking, she closed the book up and shoved it back on the shelf where she had found it.

* * *

Cordelia arrived at the hotel. 'Hello?' she called out as she stepped into the lobby, 'Angel? Fred?'

Lorne popped up from behind the counter, 'Cordelia!' he greeted her, beaming, 'great to see you, honey - you'll have to excuse me, I'm changing the little guy back here.' She went over towards him and peered down - sure enough, Connor lay on his changing mat, kicking his legs in the air.

'Nice,' Cordy said, wrinkling her nose. 'Listen, Lorne - you know how there's evil in the world - and we fight it?'

'Evil - stinky diapers - Angel's singing - there's not a terror we can't face.'

'Right… well, does the evil involve _ghosts?_ At all? Maybe?'

Lorne finished changing the baby, got him dressed again and then lifted him from the floor. He plonked Connor in his play pen and then squirted his hands with sanitiser. 'What's that? Ghosts?' He thought about it, 'we might exorcise away a mischievous spirit every now and again - if we find a bit of bad boo on our hands. But mostly ghosts are harmless.'

'They're dead.'

'So's Angel!' Lorne chuckled, 'actually - scratch that. You ever see Angel wearing leather pants - make like Carmen Miranda - and split the hell away from town.'

'Huh - where is Angel?' she thought maybe she would get a straighter answer from their boss. Or maybe Doyle would tell her what the what was. He always told her the truth. Even when that truth was that he didn't always tell her the truth … or something.

'Out,' Lorne answered, 'and now you're here - that's where I'm headed. I've got a lead on how to get your memory back - a client. We could get you back to your old self in a jif. So … babysitting duty - tag you're it.' He got his sunglasses and trilby to hide his horns and as much of his green skin as was possible, waved to Cordelia - and left.

She frowned to herself, and looked across at Connor in his play pen. 'Hey, kid - you good in there?' she asked him, 'good,' she said - when he didn't answer - or cry. She headed into the office, and went towards the bookshelves. The team had tons of fusty, musty leather bound books. Surely one would tell her about ghosts?

...

The front door opened again - and this time Angel and Gunn came in. The vampire went straight to the computer and began searching. Gunn paced up and down behind him. Cordelia popped her head around the office door. 'What's going on?' she asked them. They both looked surprised to see her.

'Case -' Angel told her. 'Fred was … attacked last night, at her science lecture. Turns out other science types have been disappearing - we're looking into it. Did Lorne go out?'

'He said he had a lead on my memory loss drama.'

'Good good - you have Connor?'

'He's in his play pen.'

'He might need changing.'

Cordelia wrinkled her nose again, 'Lorne already took care of it.'

There was a beep on the screen - and Angel read it, 'here we go,' he said. Gunn quit his pacing. 'What all these students had in common.'

Gunn peered over his shoulder. 'Oliver Seidel,' he read '... as in the guy she's with right now.' He headed straight for the door - taking long strides - but he found Fred already stood there, looking numb with shock. 'Fred! thank God. Look there's something we gotta tell you … the portal - '

'It was Professor Seidel,' Fred interrupted him. 'And he's done it before.'

'That's right,' Angel told her, from over by the computer, 'there were others.'

'No,' she corrected. 'To me. He did it before to me. He's the son of a bitch that sent me to Pylea.'

Angel and Gunn glanced between each other - uneasy at the calmness of her tone. They sought to reassure her that they would get this guy, that he would pay. But she corrected them again, 'No,' she replied - her tone still one of eerie calm, 'he's gonna die.'


	19. Supersymmetry: Part Three

_Part Three_

'What do you mean 'die'?' Gunn and Angel stared, as Fred marched over to the weapons cabinet and pulled it open. Cordelia hovered awkwardly in the doorway to the office. Fred began to survey the various blades and blunt instruments that the team had amassed over their time in business. 'I don't know yet,' she told her boyfriend, 'but it's going to involve pain.'

She selected a long handled weapon with a curved blade and looked at it, appraisingly. Adjusting her hands, she slashed it through the air - trying it out. 'The halberd could work,' she said. In the doorway, Cordelia narrowed her eyes as she watched the way the other woman handled the weapon - she couldn't explain the feeling, but she was convinced she could handle it with more finesse - that there was just something slightly off about the placement of her hands - something unbalanced. But then maybe it was just the anger making Fred clumsy - Cordy could feel the anger coming off her in waves.

Next, Fred selected a flail whip, 'what about this?' she asked the room at large, 'will this take a nice, long time?' She brandished it - practising cracking it again and again.

'Hours, if you do it right,' Angel told her - and then, off an annoyed glance from Gunn, hurried to correct himself. 'Not that you should do it at all.' He stepped forward and gently took the whip from her hand, 'ever.'

'He's a killer,' Fred replied, her voice hard, 'and he's just sitting there, smiling, telling me I'm so gifted and how he wants to teach me.' She swung the halberd, again, 'oh there's gonna be a lesson, alright.'

'Alright,' Gunn took a couple of paces towards her, trying to keep his voice soothing. 'Fred - let's just calm down.' But Fred wasn't listening. She had idolised this man - looked up to him and he'd sent her to hell! And who knew how many others he'd done it to? Others who hadn't been so lucky - who had never made it back. Sure - she would calm down - once Seidel was dead.

But Gunn kept trying - he got it - he did. And a few years ago, he would have felt the same. But this wasn't what they did. He tried to take the weapon from her. She resisted. 'We kill monsters everyday,' she told him.

'We help people,' he corrected her. 'Fred, if you do this, the demons you'll be living with won't be the horned, fangy kind. They'll be the kind you can't get rid of.'

'You're wrong,' Fred told him. She needed to do this. Charles didn't - couldn't - understand. Since Pylea, she had been living with monsters and demons hanging over her head, every day - monsters she couldn't ever quite shake, no matter how hard she ... And now it turned out that the monster which haunted her was just one little man. And she could get rid of him, forever, today. Of course Charles was wrong.

'He's right,' Angel said to her, cutting into her thoughts. 'Whatever you do now, it's nothing compared to how it'll be afterwards.'

She stared at the vampire - lost for words. Gunn took this as a good sign, and edged closer towards her once more. 'What you're talking about goes against everything you believe in. We believe in. Fred, you idolised him. But don't let him be defining what you are now.' He held his hand out towards her, 'can I have that axe?'

She shook her head - as if dispelling bad thoughts - and handed the weapon over to her boyfriend. 'Sorry, Charles,' she said - her voice was strange and blank, 'I guess I kinda lost it.'

'You want a drink?' He offered, 'I could make you some cocoa.'

'No. Thanks.' She began to walk across the lobby, headed for the side staircase, 'I'm just gonna go lie down,' she told them, 'for a few days.'

The men stared after her, as she disappeared from view. 'So, what are we gonna do to this guy?' Gunn asked his boss. 'I don't know,' Angel replied, 'but we better do it fast.'

'Yeah, we gotta get to him because Fred changes her mind.'

Over by the office, Cordelia raised an eyebrow, 'excuse me?' she asked, 'you guys think Fred has changed her mind?'

'She put the weapons back and said she wanted to lie down,' Angel said - wrinkling his brow in consternation, not understanding what Cordy was driving at.

'She said she wanted to kill that professor guy,' Cordelia pointed out, she pointed at the weapons cabinet, 'she had a big - cat o' nine tails thingy and everything.'

'Yeah - and we talked her down,' Gunn said, 'that isn't what we're about.'

'OK,' the woman smiled in disbelief, 'Fred was looking to go all homicidal and you guys think you talked her down - just by _talking_?'

The two men looked at each other, 'well - yeah - she went to lie down didn't she?'

'OK,' Cordelia raised her hands to show she gave up, 'you guys know her better than me … lately. If you're sure, I'll just be in in the office - doing … something else.' She left them to it and headed back into Angel's office.

...

She shut the door and, keeping one eye on the men, she took out her cell phone and scrolled through the address book, until she found the number Doyle had shown her. She pressed call. Her heart hammered in her chest, as she did. She was kinda glad to have an excuse to ring him so soon - and she didn't know what to make of that.

'Yello? Princess?' Doyle answered his phone on the second ring, he was frowning - surprised that Cordelia was ringing him. 'Hey,' she said, uncertainly, down the phone, 'Doyle?'

'Yeah, it's me - is something wrong?'

Cordelia cast a glance out to the lobby again, where Angel and Gunn were still huddled together deciding what to do. 'I think so,' she said to the Irishman, 'I think Angel and Gunn are making a really big mistake.'

Doyle frowned even deeper, 'what's goin' on?' he asked her. She took a deep breath and explained it all - Fred's lecture, the way she had nearly been sucked through a portal and how everyone was super freaking. Then Fred had found out that some professor physics guy she knew was responsible. 'Not just for the portal last night,' Cordelia told him, 'but for another one - something about … pies… I think. Fred was really angry.'

'Pies?...' Doyle looked confused, his brain whirring around as he tried to work out what Cordelia was talking about. Across the room, the Groosalug was practising swordplay - showing his skills to Kalimania. Doyle watched the champion wave his blade around - and then it clicked, 'Pylea?' he suggested, 'did Fred say Pylea?'

'Yeah - that might have been it. Anyway - she was so furious about this professor dude and the pie place that she said she was gonna kill him! She got out a big blade thingy and a big whip and was full on gung ho for a spot of torture.'

'Man … not that I blame her, if this guy sent her to Pylea.'

'Well - yeah, she was ready to do some damage. But the guys talked to her and she went to lie down.'

'So what's the problem?' Doyle asked.

Cordelia looked disbelieving, 'oh, come on!' she said, down the phone, 'Little Fred was about to go all Dirty Harry on this guy and now she's agreed to go and lie down because Angel and Gunn told her it _would be wrong_? I don't believe that! Do you believe that? She's gonna sneak out and go after the guy. We have to stop her - because the men here are too boneheaded to do anything about it.'

Her voice went up in outrage as she finished. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Doyle couldn't help but smile as he listened to her ranting. Even with amnesia, his Cordy was still the smartest of the lot of them - could read and understand people better than anyone, when she deigned to notice their existence, of course. Well, she had lots of practice. You didn't get to be queen bee of a high school without learning how to read a room.

'OK -' he said to her, 'do you know the name of the guy she's after?'

'Um … hang on she said it… Rider… Rydell - no, wait, that's the high school in Grease... Seidel - that was it. Professor Seidel. He used to teach her.'

'Right - don't worry, Princess. I'll find him before Fred does. Get him outta the way.'

'What will you do to him?' Cordelia asked.

He glanced across at Kali and Groo, 'we'll improvise,' he said.

* * *

Fred sat on Wesley's sofa. Just as Cordelia had predicted, she had not given up on her lust for vengeance - she had just sought out someone else to help her. 'Sounds good,' Wesley said, handing her a beer. She took the drink from him and sighed, 'Angel and Gunn want me to be all sweetness and light,' she told the watcher. 'Cute little Fred, she'll turn the other cheek like a good girl. I mean - they saw what Professor Seidel is capable of, he opened that portal right in front of them.'

'They dealt with it handily enough,' he sat down, balancing on the coffee table just in front of her.

Fred was surprised, 'you were there?'

'I read your article, saw you'd be speaking. It was an excellent piece.'

'You've been keeping track of me?'

'Yes,' he admitted, but he looked away as he said it. 'So, about this Professor Seidel - what did you have in mind?'

But - beyond pain - she wasn't really sure, that was why she had come to Wesley. The Englishman put his drink down on the coffee table and surveyed the woman for a moment. 'Fred,' he said slowly, 'you know that everything Angel and Gunn said is true? Vengeance will have a price. And once you've acted you can't go back. You will have to live with your actions forever.'

She gave him a hard stare, 'he's a serial killer,' she said.

'All right, then.' He got to his feet and headed on over to the bookcase, 'I'm sure we'll find an appropriate solution.' Fred came to stand beside him and peered over his shoulder, as he flipped through a large, leather bound volume. 'Oh here's something interesting,' he said - pointing, 'once practised in ancient Egypt.'

'Is that his tongue?' Fred squinted at the picture of gruesome torment, trying to figure it out. But she was distracted when her cell phone began to ring. She expected it to be Gunn, and dug it out of her pocket, with a sigh. But when she saw the caller ID, it wasn't bearing the expected phone number. Instead, it displayed a whole line of strange, arcane symbols. The phone began to make a strange sound and then a wind picked up, inside the apartment.

Wesley and Fred glanced at each other in alarm - and then the watcher grabbed her by the arm and dragged her behind the couch - as another portal opened up right inside his living room...

* * *

'Wait here,' Doyle said to the driver of the cab, as it pulled up outside the university physics department, 'keep the meter running - we'll be right back down.' He, Groo and Kali got out of the taxi and headed inside. 'You have a plan, Noble Majesty?' the Groosalug asked Doyle as they entered the building.

'Uh - well…' the Irishman gazed around him, taking in the size of the department, 'I guess first we have to find him - but… I'm not sure…'

Kali shook her head, 'men!' she snorted - and grabbed hold of a student walking past. The young man goggled at her lilac skin and bright pink hair, but as the demoness smiled at him he began to blush. She really was very pretty - and was using that to her full advantage. 'Excuse me,' she said to the student, 'we were just wondering where we might find Professor Seidel's office?' She gave the boy her sweetest smile - and he fell over himself, trying to be helpful, giving her detailed instructions on how to get to the lab.

'Thanks,' she smiled again, 'I would have been just _lost_ without you.' She blew him a kiss - and walked off. The student stared after her - open mouthed. Doyle and Groo trailed behind her, following in her footsteps as she headed towards the laboratory. 'Uh - good thinkin',' the half demon said to her.

'I know - asking for directions when you're lost,' she replied,_ 'revolutionary!'_ They followed the instructions she had been given and sure enough found their way to the lab. That was empty - but Seidel's office was on the far side of the room. Doyle knocked on the door and the three of them entered. Seidel was in there alone, packing his books into boxes. 'Hi, we're looking for Professor Seidel?' Doyle said.

'I'm a bit busy at the moment,' the professor indicated his packing, 'maybe come back later?'

'It'll just take a minute,' the Irishman said.

'I don't have a minute.'

Doyle glanced at the Groosalug. 'Knock him out,' he told the champion. The Groosalug raised the hilt of his sword and brought it down, swiftly, on the professor's head - before Seidel had even time to look up and protest.

'Right,' Doyle bent down and tugged the unconscious man up from the floor. 'Me and Groo will get him back down to the taxi - Kali, you wait here for Fred, OK? You remember the address I told you?'

The demoness nodded and stayed behind in the lab, whilst Doyle and the Groosalug manhandled the professor between them. 'What shall we say if anyone asks us what is wrong with this man?' Groo asked as they headed down the corridor. 'If anyone asks any questions … knock them out as well,' Doyle suggested.

Groo nodded, 'his Majesty is most wise.'

'I really am.'

* * *

Angel, Gunn and Cordy stood in Fred's empty bedroom. The men looked panicked and surprised. Cordy was biting her lip so she didn't say, 'I told you so'. 'And I'm asking her if she wants Cocoa!' Gunn was saying, 'stupid!'

'She's gonna kill him,' Angel said. Cordelia stifled a snort. '_Y'think?_' she asked.

'If he doesn't kill her first,' Gunn said, not noticing the woman's tone. 'You know where she went,' he said to Angel. The vampire nodded, 'look, I'm faster on my own.' The rooftops were always faster.

'Go!' Gunn told him, 'I'll meet you there.'

'She'll be OK,' Angel assured him - and then jumped out of the window. Cordelia looked taken aback at his sudden exit. But Gunn had already turned and was running down the hallway, headed for the door.

'No that's OK, guys,' Cordelia yelled after them both, 'no need to ask - I'll just stay here and look after Connor! Because I know what to do with a baby!' She shook her head and sank down on Fred's bed, 'stupid guys,' she grumbled to herself. She took out her cell phone and dialled Doyle's number, again.

'Hello?' She heard his lilting Irish brogue - and it made her smile. It was becoming familiar. She could get used to a voice like that. 'Hi, Doyle - it's Cordelia. Fred's gone already - and the guys are going after her.'

'Not a problem, Princess,' Doyle glanced at the unconscious man slumped between him and Groosalug in the back of the taxi, 'the situation is already in hand.'

* * *

Wesley drove towards the university - they weren't far away now and Fred had been silent the whole ride. 'You remember everything we went over?' he asked her.

'I do,' she replied, 'and I'm going to give him exactly what he deserves,' she glanced over at him, 'thanks to you.' There was a moment of silence, whilst she watched his face, 'what?' she asked him.

'I was just thinking … not that I don't get his point, but I'm surprised Gunn's not here - no matter what the consequences.' It felt good that she had come to him. It felt good that Gunn had let her down when she had needed him most - but that she had known she could always count on Wesley.

'Charles doesn't have it in him,' Fred said, shaking her head. That sounded good, too - she was admitting Gunn's limitations. 'It's part of what I love about him,' she finished up. Wesley's expression hardened, once more - and he glanced across at her. 'You can still back out - if you think Gunn's right.'

'It's not about right,' her voice was firm. 'Pull over there,' she pointed. Wesley flicked his indicator on and stopped at the side of the road. 'I'd ask to tag along…' he began.

'But you know what the answer would be.' She got out of the car and slammed the door. She walked away without looking back.

* * *

She made her way through the department, it was dark - and so the building was mostly deserted. Good - she was carrying a crossbow and didn't want to draw attention to herself until after she had done away with the son of a bitch. Her heart pounded in her chest, with every step - but it wasn't deterring her - it was spurring her on. She was angry - and the anger seemed to vibrate inside of her, pounding along in perfect time with the thrumming of blood in her ears.

She got to the lab and went inside. There was no sign of Seidel - but there was a demon woman there, with pink hair. Fred didn't have time for more creatures from portals. She raised her crossbow and pointed it at the woman, 'where's Seidel?'

'Fred? Right?' Kali asked. Fred nodded her head, almost imperceptibly. Kali looked relieved. 'He isn't here,' she told the other woman, 'but I know where he is. Doyle told me to take you to him.'

Fred lowered her crossbow slightly and looked confused. '_Doyle?'_

* * *

Angel landed on the rooftop of the university building. He took the fire escape downward and then burst his way through Professor Seidel's window. The glass exploded inward and he dived through the space, tucking and rolling and then bounding to his feet. There was no one there to look surprised at his entrance … or impressed.

He dusted the glass from himself and looked around. The office was empty - as was the lab next to it. No sign of Seidel. No sign of Fred. Wherever the show down was going to take place - it didn't seem to be going to be here. He frowned.

The office was in disarray - books had been taken off shelves and placed in boxes, but the job was only half done. The professor seemed to have been planning an escape, only to abandon it half way through. But where would Fred take him?

Angel left the office and walked through the lab - he searched his way through the department - but the whole place was deserted. He could smell that he was the only one there.

...

He left the building and waited for Gunn, at the side of the road. After a few minutes, the Plymouth pulled up - the street fighter at its wheel. He looked surprised to see Angel just standing in the road. 'She's not here,' the vampire said, getting into the passenger seat, 'and neither is Seidel - no sign of either of them.'

'You think he did something to her?' Gunn sounded frightened.

'I hope not,' but Angel couldn't offer any assurances, 'maybe he wasn't there when she came looking - or maybe she took him some place. But where?'

'You know - I was thinking on the way over,' Gunn said, 'Fred has the anger - but she doesn't have the know how - or the power - to go after this guy alone. If she wanted to do some serious damage - she was gonna need some extra ammo on her side, a little help.'

'Where would she go to for that kind of help?' Angel asked, wrinkling his brow. Gunn took a moment to respond - and when he did, his voice was heavy. 'I think she went to Wesley.'

'Then what say we pay ol' Wes a little visit?'

'Sounds like a plan,' he turned the car around - and they drove off, leaving the university behind and heading, instead, for the watcher's apartment.

* * *

Lorne sat in his client's front room - well, it was sort of a front room. Bless her, his client was a wraith - intangible, ghostly. She fleeted in and out of material reality - and her home did likewise. It was a good job he'd thought to bring his own folding chair.

She sang for him - her voice warbling a little, getting stronger as she materialised and then fading out again as she did. '_Baby I've been here before, I know this room I've walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you…'_

'OK, sweetheart, that's enough,' he told her, cutting her off, 'I got it.' She stopped singing and looked at him. 'Yeah,' he said to her, 'it's hard to be a manifestation, I get that - people barely knowing that you're there - and screaming when they do. But you've got to keep your chin up.' He looked uncertain, 'do you have a chin? Anyway - the point is, you gotta stick to your strengths, cherub. Do what you're good at - keep plying that trade and you'll make a name for yourself. People will notice you - remember you - seek you out. And I'm of a mind to help , start with a little word of mouth of a satisfied customer - do you have it?'

There was a gust of wind and a cabinet opened, showing shelves upon shelves of dusty bottles. Lorne got up and peered at them, 'and this will do it?' He asked her, 'this will help?' The wraith nodded. The green demon grinned, 'well, _hallelujah!_' he said, 'I'd kiss you if you weren't insubstantial. I'm waiving my reading fee and I'll just take this. And I'll spread the good word once we get Cordy back.'

He reached into the cabinet and took out one of the bottles.

* * *

Cordelia chose two of the books she had been reading, earlier, and put them into her bag. The she went and picked up Connor, 'I guess I can't leave you here, all alone,' she said to him, 'you'll have to come with me.' She chewed her lip, nervously, 'I hope this doesn't get too hairy,' she said, 'in the movie, even the priest dies … but surely a ghost won't hurt a baby?'

She balanced the baby on her hip, slung her bag across her shoulder and left the hotel - flipping the lights off as she went.

* * *

'Where are we going?' Fred asked, as the cab drove down a dark alleyway and came to a stop. Kali shrugged, 'this is just the address Doyle gave me,' she told the woman - and then leaned forward and paid the driver. Both women got out and the car drove away. Fred glanced around, uncertain. 'This seems…' she wrinkled her nose, 'familiar.'

'I think it's through here,' Kali said, the walls had been boarded up with plywood and she led Fred through a small gap. They squeezed through and found themselves in a room beyond. Fred wrinkled her nose again - the room was charred and blackened, destroyed by fire - beams from the ceiling had crashed down to the floor and blocked their path. They ducked and weaved their way through to the doorway - stepping out into the space beyond.

This room was larger - but also fire destroyed. There were shapes of melted furniture strewn across the room and as she stepped further in, she heard the crunch of broken glass underneath her feet. She looked around. 'Hang on a minute,' she said, 'is this _Caritas_?'

'Yep,' Doyle said, stepping into view, 'we came here specially, figured this was the best place to do it without gettin' disturbed.'

'Do what?' She saw who was with Doyle - the tall, muscular man with the long black hair and strange eyes. 'Is that the Groosalug?' she asked, sounding even more surprised. The last time she had seen the undefeated champion was the day she had left Pylea, when he had been taking over from Doyle as the ruler of the land. He seemed oddly incongruous here, in her own world; dressed in his animal skins; his long hair flowing down his back. After everything that had happened to her over the past twenty four hours, seeing someone else who must have come through a portal - and recently - did not make Fred feel any better.

'Uhuh,' Doyle nodded, '- he got here about ten days ago. He's stayin' at the motel. He's been very useful - and he's gonna be even more useful to us right now.'

'How's that?' Fred asked, 'Doyle - what's going on?'

'Well, I don't know if you remember, darlin' - I guess maybe those days might be kind o' a blur to y' … but Caritas is where we landed when we came home from Pylea.'

'I remember,' she shuddered.

Doyle nodded, 'yeah, well - the portal to Pylea opens right where the stage used to be, that's how I got sucked in myself, that time. Now, I know Caritas is pretty much toast but, to the best of my reckoning, the remains of the stage are right over there.'

He pointed across the charred room and Fred's eyes followed the direction he pointed in, and then grew wide. Tied up and gagged, right where the stage used to be - right underneath where the portal would open - was Professor Seidel...


	20. Supersymmetry: Part Four

_Part Four_

Cordelia arrived back in her apartment. She went round and switched every light on and then - unsure of what to do with Connor - went and deposited him in the bathtub. It seemed the safest place for him, as he couldn't roll out of it. She went to her bed and took off the pillows and put them in the bath, around the baby, forming a squishy nest. 'There,' she said, 'is that comfy? Well - it will have to do, because I have ass to kick.' Then she covered her mouth and looked apologetic, 'I probably shouldn't say 'ass' in front of a baby!'

She straightened up. 'Things might get a little funky around here, Connor, holler if you get scared - OK?' She headed back out into the living room and took the books out of her bag. 'Listen up ghosty!' she announced, 'you know what I have here?' she brandished the tomes at the thin air. 'Magic books,' she told the air, 'yeah, that's what, and they've got all kinds of nifty stuff in them like - oh, say, _this_…' she flipped the book open to the page she had marked. 'I shall confront and expel all evil - out of marrow and bone - out of house and home - never to come here again,' she read out loud.

'You know what that is?' she asked, 'it's an exorcism - uhuh - that's exactly what it is - an exorcism. It requires some pretty funky stuff to do … I'm not sure on all the ingredients, lungwort and bile … but I bet if there's magic books then there'll be magic shops. And -' she pointed her finger to emphasise her words, though she was pointing into space, 'I'll bet my new friend, Doyle, will know where to get this stuff, so …' She snapped the book shut and looked around. 'What's it gonna be, Casper? Are you gonna reveal yourself to me? Or am I gonna take a trip to the local boogety boogety store and get the stuff I need to force you to haul your transluscent ass the hell out of my place? Because I am up for _totally_ confronting and expelling all evil. '

There was a moment of silence - when nothing happened. Cordelia stared around, defiantly, though inside she began to get the flicker of feeling that maybe she was acting like a crazy person. But then, across the room, she saw a lipstick pick itself up and begin to float. She gasped. The lid came off and the lipstick wound up - then it began to write on the mirror.

Cordelia stared in surprise. She knew what Angel had told her - she knew about evil and vampires. She knew she was crazy good at fighting and she had noticed the things that seemed to move around by themselves. But actually standing and watching the floating lipstick write on the mirror was a whole new level of crazy.

When it was done - there was just one word written: _Dennis._

'Dennis?' She scrunched up her nose, 'OK- that doesn't sound very threatening. Why are you in my apartment?' The lipstick began to write again: _I love you._

* * *

There was a knock on his apartment door and Wesley got to his feet to go and answer it- expecting Lilah. Instead, Gunn and Angel barrelled through - and a moment later, the watcher found himself pinned up against the wall. Gunn had him gripped by the shirt front, his expression was furious. 'What did you help her do?' He yelled into Wesley's face, 'where did she take him?'

'I don't know what …' But Gunn didn't even let him finish, he body slammed him into the wall and then pressed his forearm against Wesley's throat - pinning him to the wall and choking off his breath in one movement. 'Wrong answer, English.'

'Look, Wesley,' Angel said - he was hovering in the background, his voice more reasonable than Gunn's - he was playing the good cop, tonight. 'We know Fred was looking for payback on Seidel. We know you were at her talk, last night - saw that portal open up. And we know she will have needed help to go after him. And you're the only person left she could turn to … so that begs the question - what did you do?'

'OK…' he choked out, his face was turning purple.

'Gunn - ease up a little,' Angel said. The street fighter relaxed his hold a little, but didn't give Wesley any more space.

'She came to me,' Wesley croaked - still pinned to the wall, 'she wanted to get vengeance.'

'And you just thought you'd help her?' Gunn yelled, 'you just thought you'd help Fred become a killer?' He slammed the British man into the wall once again.

'Why didn't you help her, then?' Wesley asked - despite being held tight in Gunn's grip, he was not backing down; he kept eye contact with the furious younger man. 'Why did you make it so she had to come to me, if that's what concerns you?'

Gunn slammed him again, Wesley choked. 'It aint about that,' Gunn told him, 'we're not about vengeance - we help people. I wasn't gonna help Fred become a killer.'

'So I did.'

'You think that's love?' Another body slam. 'You think you've proved you love Fred the most because you helped her do this? You helped her give into weakness - to evil. You _destroyed _Fred - everything she was … that's gone now. You call that love?'

But Wesley stood his ground - kept up the eye contact. 'I helped her do what needed to be done. He sent another portal for her - whilst she was here. Tried to kill her, again. Fred's not safe until Seidel is dead - and if she wants to be the one to exact the pound of flesh… I'm not going to take that from her out of some misguided sense of heroism.'

Gunn hauled back and punched him square in the face. Wesley crumpled to the ground, his hands flew to his stinging nose.

'Alright - OK,' Angel intervened, 'Wesley - just tell us what she's planning to do - and where she went.'

'I took her to the physics department,' Wesley said, from down on the floor, breathing heavily with the pain, 'we found - in one of my books - a way to open a portal. To a hell dimension - all fire and torment. She's going to open it up - suck him into it - an eye for an eye.'

'We went to the physics department - it was the first place we looked,' the vampire told him, 'she wasn't there - neither was Seidel.'

Wesley shrugged, 'that was the plan,' he still sounded as if he were in a lot of pain - he was still crumpled against the wall, not getting up. 'Maybe you were too late. Maybe she had sent him to hell, already, and left.'

Gunn looked panicked - he turned around to look at Angel, 'you think that's it - we were too late before we even got there?'

'I don't know,' Angel was unsure, 'a portal to hell - a sucking vortex? It sounds messy - windy. There wasn't any sign of that kind of disturbance. His papers were abandoned, like he'd been interrupted - but they were on his desk - not blown all over the place.'

'So she took him somewhere else?'

'Why would she do that?'

They both turned back to look at the slumped watcher. But Wesley had told them all he knew. The plan had been to attack Seidel in the laboratory. Send him to a hell dimension of unimaginable torment. If Fred had gone off script, he had no idea what she would have done.

Gunn glared down at him, then he swung his leg back and kicked Wesley right where he had punched him, before. Wesley cried out in pain. 'That's for messin' where you weren't wanted,' Gunn said, 'you ever come near Fred again…'

'I can't stop her coming to _me_,' Wesley retorted.

'You can send her the hell back on her merry way,' Gunn told him, 'you can do what's best for Fred - and not what's gonna let you slither your way back into her good books. I see you near Fred again - and I swear to god…'

'Come on,' Angel said, grabbing hold of Gunn's arm and dragging him out of the apartment, 'we need to figure out what to do next. Where would Fred go?'

'She won't thank you if you stop her!' Wesley called after them, 'she isn't a child - she knows what she wants.'

* * *

Fred stared at the tied up Professor - she glanced around at the remains of the stage, the charred surroundings of the night club '...what is this?' she asked - her voice uncertain.

'Well - we heard about your recent problems, darlin' - the portal at your lecture - the professor - what he did in the past … we thought you might be lookin' for a little payback.'

'You got that damn right,' she lifted her crossbow and levelled it at Seidel. The Professor's eyes widened in fear and he cried out, through his gag. But Doyle put his arm out and managed to lower her weapon, 'easy, love,' he said gently, 'we're here to help y' … but not like that.'

'It's what he deserves,' her voice was harsh and cold. Doyle nodded, 'it is,' he agreed, 'no arguments, here… but it isn't what you deserve, sweetheart - to have to live with this. You've been through enough as it is, suffered enough - at his hands - you don't wanna have to carry the weight of his murder with y' for the rest of your life. He isn't worth that.'

'So what - you're gonna kill him for me?' She sounded disbelieving, 'because I'm not leaving this place until that sonofabitch is dead.'

Doyle glanced over his shoulder, 'Groo?' he said, 'you got the book?'

'It is here, Noble Majesty,' the Groosalug stepped forward - holding a large, leather bound book in his hands. Fred's eyes widened as she recognised it, 'is that …?'

'The book that opens the portals to Pylea?' Doyle finished for her, 'the one you read from in the library, all those years ago? ...The very same. The guys lost it - when they came through the portal to rescue me, but would you believe it? Some good Samaritan picked it up off the road and returned it to the library. Where we went to check it out, this evenin'.'

'If it is your wish, I will read from this book now and send the ignoble prisoner back through to my own world,' the Groosalug said to Fred - his dark eyes earnest and shining. She looked from the Professor back to Doyle and Groo and shook her head. 'I know how to open a portal that will take him some place much worse than Pylea,' she said. 'I know how to open a portal that will take him to a world of torment and pain and death.'

'And I can't let you do that, Fred,' Doyle said, gently.

'You're gonna stop me?' she scoffed, 'what - are you the moral high ground guy, now? Kidnapped any of your friends' children, lately, Doyle?'

Doyle just smiled sadly, 'don't you think all the terrible stuff I've done in the past kinda makes me an expert on exactly why you don't wanna kill this guy, darlin'?' he said to her, his voice was still gentle. 'I know the price of mistakes - I know what it's like to regret somethin', so badly, that it's like a great suckin' void in your chest … and to wanna take it back, more than anythin' in the world - but not be able to. And to have to live with that - and the consequences - every damn day for the rest o' my life.' He fixed her with his most pleading look. 'I've done so much wrong and I hate myself for it - please, Fred, let me stop you from becoming like me. Let me at least do that much right.'

But she shook her head. She wasn't ready to give up on her plan. Seidel deserved a world of pain. And she wanted to give it to him. 'He deserves worse than Pylea,' she said, 'he sent me there - and he tried to open another portal to send me away - again - twice! He's tried to kill me three times and god knows how many people he's actually killed. And you know why he does it, Doyle? Because he's a pathetic, scared, insecure nobody who feels threatened by scientists that are smarter than him. He sends away the competition!'

'He's a worm - a low down maggot - I'm with y' all the way … but he isn't worth a lifetime o' regret for you.'

'I've already had a lifetime of regret, Doyle, five years in that cave - running scared, hungry - and being so far from home it made my chest hurt just to think about it. Knowing what my parents must be going through not knowin' where I was. He did that to me! It's already done and I can't go back from it. So what's one more regret on top of that?' She levelled her crossbow, again.

Doyle reached out and lowered it, again. 'Every mistake hurts - more than you can think it's possible. I've been there, Fred - and I've thought 'what difference can one more mistake make?' Believe me - each one weighs on y'.'

But her face was still hardened. 'I don't care.'

'You will.'

'It isn't enough!' she cried, 'after what he did - Pylea isn't hell enough. It's different now - you freed the slaves. He won't suffer there. I want him to suffer. I want him to suffer so badly that he begs for death and then he's made to suffer just a little bit more. Pylea won't be suffering for him - not now - it'll just be different.'

'With respect, lady,' the Groosalug said, stepping forward, 'but you are wrong. Since his Majesty left - the kingdom has fallen upon dark times. The priests - angered that their power was overturned - are more dangerous than ever. They war against the common people. The warriors of the Deathwok clan roam the land hunting humans to return them to slavery, or to kill them if they refuse. The humans try to fight back, but with no champion they are too weak. Since the slaves were freed, no one works the land; there is famine and pestilence. I was, myself, cast out from the kingdom and exiled. I came to this strange world as there was nothing left for me there - no purpose, no hope. My home has fallen upon dark and terrible times, lady, it is much changed since you were there - and not for the better.'

Doyle's face had crinkled up into a frown, as the Groosalug had been speaking - and he turned to look at the undefeated champion. 'Is it really that bad?' he asked, 'since I left? Did me overturnin' everythin' really destroy the kingdom? … I wanted to make things better.'

'It was not your fault, Noble Majesty,' the Groosalug was quick to reassure him, 'but our society floundered once we no longer had your wise counsel to guide us. I fear I was not up to the task you left me.'

'Still - kinda makes a fella feel bad. Free the slaves - bring about a famine…' He turned back to Fred. 'So what d'ya say? Send him to Pylea - just like he did to you. An eye for an eye. He gets the same fighting chance to survive that you did - but he gets to suffer just like you did, as well. Justice not vengeance. Will that do?'

Fred looked back at the professor - then she raised her crossbow again, 'no,' she said.

* * *

Lilah sat at her desk. She was supposed to be working - she had a meeting to go over the quarterly projections with the Senior Partners, themselves, in just under a week … but she couldn't concentrate on the spreadsheets and data and forecasts. She was thinking about Wesley.

She wondered about the portal that had opened up right above the Texas twig's head. How Wesley felt when he saw the woman in danger, whether he had rushed to her side to try and rescue her. Would he rush to Lilah's side to save her from imminent danger? The lawyer pondered.

He had been the one to call their fling a 'relationship' first. They had been sleeping together for months now. This was the closest thing to meaningful that Lilah had ever had… but he had given her the brush off. He'd turned down sex with Lilah in order to go watch Gidget deliver a talk about string theory… his heart was not Lilah's, even if she was the one that got to be with him.

Did she even want his heart? A year ago - she would have liked it carved out of his chest and served on a platter. Back when he was just another white hat - but now… Well, if she didn't want his heart, exactly, she certainly wanted his undivided attention. She wanted to be appreciated. Wanted to be wanted. But as long as Fred was on the scene, Lilah would never be more than a convenient stress reliever.

That wasn't good enough. Lilah Morgan - lawyer, woman of the world, senior associate at Wolfram and Hart - was not going to lose out to Dorothy's skinnier farm girl cousin. However and whyever she wanted the watcher - she wanted to be the unquestioned number one in his eyes.

She drummed her fingers on the desk. So how to defeat the doe eyed ingenue and her southern drawl? She pressed the buzzer to get the attention of her assistant. 'Craig,' she said into the intercom, 'I want you to go out and buy me some reading glasses … oh and get some hair ribbons as well.'

* * *

'Fred, stop!' Doyle took a step towards the angry woman and she swung the crossbow to point at him instead. 'I'm not gonna let y'...'

'I'm not gonna let you stop me.'

'You'll have to shoot me,' he said - taking another step towards her. She clenched her jaw. 'Fine.' She pulled the trigger - the crossbow bolt flew from the string and embedded itself in Doyle's side. He stumbled and collapsed to the floor, turning demon face as he did. Kalimania was at his side in a moment - looking frantic. 'I'm OK,' Doyle groaned, 'she wasn't aimin' to kill me.' But then he moaned in agony. He might not be dying - but he was still in a lot of pain.

The Groosalug looked outraged, 'you must not injure his Majesty, you must show him the proper respect!'

But Fred was ignoring the angry champion - and the groaning half demon on the floor, she was loading her crossbow with another bolt. She stepped up to Professor Seidel and stared him right in the eyes. 'You know what they say about payback?' She hit him around the head with the blunt end of the weapon, 'well, I'm the bitch.' She hit him again. 'You think I won't do this,' she said to him, 'and the big cactus groaning on the floor thinks I'm gonna regret what I'm about to do. But he's wrong. He doesn't know what I'm capable of - none of them do. Five years of pain and suffering in a hell dimension'll make a girl capable of a lot of things.'

Doyle tried to get to his feet - still trying to stop her. Kali supported him, but it was no good - his knees gave way and he fell back down. 'Fred,' he cried out, 'please…'

Seidel was crying out the same - though it was muffled by his gag. He was screaming, pleading with her to stop - but she wasn't interested in listening. 'I'm doing the talking, now,' she said, sharply, 'in fact - I've got a little speech prepared.' She began to chant, then - a strange sounding, foreign tongue that Doyle did not recognise. '_Klyv mat chyvma._'

A fierce wind whipped up inside the burned out night club - always a sure sign that a portal was about to open. 'Groo - stop her,' Doyle cried, still writhing in agony, 'y' gotta stop her from talkin'.'

The Groosalug stepped towards the woman. She swung her crossbow on him but he plucked it from her hand and tossed it to one side with no effort at all. Then he wrapped his right arm about her waist and clamped his left hand over her mouth. 'Apologies, lady,' he said, as he pulled Fred away from the professor.

She writhed in his arms, biting his hand - trying to get free, so she could continue her revenge. But she was no match for the undefeated champion of Pylea. The indoor wind died down and, as she realise her portal was closing before it was even fully summoned, Fred fought even harder against her captor. 'Kali,' Doyle gasped, as he watched Fred struggle in Groo's arms, knowing she would eventually get free and try again, 'the book - read from the book - send him away.'

Reluctantly, Kalimania left the half demon's side and grabbed the fallen book. She flipped it open and began to read the strange vowelless sounds that made up the Pylean language. 'Krv Drpglr pwlz…' she stuttered and stumbled over the unfamiliar words, 'chkwrt strplmt dwghzn...' an indoor wind began to whip up, once more. Not wanting a repeat of the last time this had happened, Doyle shuffled back a few paces. 'Prqlrzn lfrmpltzz,' Kali finished up. The wind was at gale force now - their hair and clothes blew around, wildly - and then the portal opened, right behind Seidel. The great whirling, purple vortex distorted the air and shimmered into existence - screaming and howling. Kali also backed up a few paces. Fred went still in Groo's arms - staring, as her worst nightmare manifested in front of her: the portal to Pylea.

Seidel was screaming through his gag. Doyle raised his arm to shield his face from the powerful onslaught of the wind and then - just as the shrieking reached a fearful crescendo - the gateway collapsed in on itself, swallowing Professor Seidel whole and then sealing itself shut. The wind died down. Groo let go of Fred. She dropped to the floor - staring at the place where Seidel had disappeared - tears stood out in her eyes. Then she turned to look at the others. She was silent, her expression resentful. She got to her feet and walked away, without a backward glance at the three demons who had stolen her revenge; her shoulders were hunched in defeat.

The others watched her go - also silent - and then Kali and Groo converged on the wounded Doyle. 'It's OK, it's OK,' he told them, 'I got some first aid stuff in my pocket - I just need patchin' up.'

* * *

Angel and Gunn had arrived back at the hotel - not knowing what to do or where to look for Fred. An air of defeat hung over them. 'I shouldn't have left her alone,' Gunn was saying bitterly, 'I should have known … I shouldda known better. Known _her_ better.'

'It isn't just you,' Angel said, his shoulders were sagged and he shook his head. 'That kind of anger - I've been around long enough, I should have known what it meant. I just thought … Fred…'

'Fred would never … I guess we underestimated her.' Her boyfriend's voice was heavy and tears were pricking at his eyes, threatening to fall. 'And now we've lost her - she can't come back from this. When she walks back through that door … she won't be Fred, no more. Not our Fred.'

'To take a life, a human life … Fred has no comprehension of the darkness she's touched. But she will know … soon enough, she'll know.'

'I should have killed Wesley,' Gunn said, 'I'll never forgive him for helping her - for letting her do this.'

The door opened, at that moment, and both men's heads snapped up. Fred walked in - looking bone weary. She was still hunched over and there were stains on her cheeks that marked the tears that had tracked down her face, as she had walked home.

'Fred,' Gunn jumped to his feet - but he didn't approach her. 'Did you…'

'I didn't kill him,' her voice was blank and her eyes were dead… but Gunn didn't register any of that. He just felt the relief crash into his heart like a tsunami. 'You didn't … you mean you changed your mind? The professor's still alive?'

Fred took a deep breath - and shrugged her shoulders. 'I wanted to kill him. He stopped me. Held me back and sent Seidel to Pylea. I guess some demon will kill him now. He gets to be the cow slave. It isn't enough.' She shook her head, 'not enough. I shot him - and he still stopped me.' She began to walk up the stairs.

Gunn and Angel exchanged a mystified glance. 'Shot who?' Gunn asked, 'Fred - who stopped you?'

'Doyle,' Fred said - without looking over her shoulder. She carried on walking up the stairs. The men stood in the lobby - not knowing what to say. Then the sound of heavy, racking sobs floated down from the second storey landing - as Fred dissolved into gasping, ragged tears of defeat and despair.

'You should go to her,' Angel said, quietly - looking upward. Gunn nodded and - without saying a word - went to comfort his distraught girlfriend.

...

The front door opened again. Angel turned to look - his face lit up, when he saw who it was. Cordelia had arrived, Connor balanced awkwardly on her hip. 'Hey!' he said to her. She glanced upward, towards the sound of the crying, 'did Fred…?'

'She didn't kill the guy - apparently Doyle stopped her.'

Cordelia's face relaxed into a bright smile, 'I knew he'd manage it,' she said.

'Uh - you did?' Angel looked confused. But Cordy nodded, 'when you weren't gonna stop Fred from killing that guy, I rang Doyle and told him what was up. He said he'd handle it - and he did. I knew I could trust him. No matter what he told me about how untrustworthy he was.'

'You talked to Doyle? When?'

'I met him whilst I was out shopping - we had coffee … and that leads me to why I'm here.' Angel looked uncertain, 'it does?' She nodded, 'well - apart from to return this little guy home,' she dropped Connor into his playpen, 'I wanted to talk to you.'

'About Doyle?'

'About us.'

'Oh.'

She took a deep breath. 'Doyle seemed to think there was something going on between us,' she said. She began to pace. 'And I got to talking to phantom Dennis this evening...'

'You found out about Dennis?'

'I did. The hard way. I nearly exorcised him and it turns out he's one of my best friends. Angel - you keep hiding things from me.'

The vampire shoved his hands into pockets and shuffled his feet awkwardly. 'I don't mean to,' he mumbled, 'I just wanna…'

'Protect me,' she interrupted, 'I know. But see - I don't think I need protecting. Not from the truth. And I certainly don't need to be lied to. Doyle told me things - ugly things - about our past together, and I'm still standing! He says I can't trust him and yet he's the one who tells me the truth - and came through for Fred. You tell me that I'm amongst friends with you - that you're keeping me safe - but you keep hiding things from me. Things I need to know.'

'OK,' he looked even more uncomfortable now. 'No more lies - what do you need to know?'

She took a deep breath - and looked him deep in the eyes, trying to search out the truth. 'Are we in love?' she asked.

* * *

**A/N Next episode is 'Spin the Bottle'.**


	21. Spin the Bottle: Part One

**Spin The Bottle**

_Part One_

_**...**_

_Ah - youth. Is there anything more magical? A time of first loves and great discoveries. Let's face it: youth is it. It's a national obsession, crazy cats. But, somewhere, people all forget what a mess youth is. It's a time of magic, alright, and there's nothing more unreliable or annoying than magic. Lemme tell ya a story. It starts - as so many stories do - with a boy … and a girl._

**_..._**

'So, tonight was pretty hectic, huh?' Kali said, as she and Doyle walked up the external staircase towards their motel rooms. Doyle was still limping and was clutching his side, where Fred had shot him with a crossbow bolt. 'Actually,' he said, 'it was pretty much par for the course, in my life. Wasn't as bad as the night I rescued you.'

Kali blushed - staining her lilac skin a pretty pink - and looked down at her feet, 'you know, you've never let me thank you for that.'

Doyle slowed his pace, 'I don't need thankin',' he told her - his voice awkward, 'it's what I do.'

'You're a hero,' her voice was warm - and she stated this as a fact. It was Doyle's turn to blush. 'I'm a sidekick,' he told her, 'but my champion kicked me off the team and so now I do the best I can.'

'Well - it's more than enough, or at least - it was for me.' They reached her door and came to a stop. She fished in her pocket for her room key. Doyle winced, as the wound in his side gave a twinge of pain. Immediately, Kali was all concern. 'Are you OK?' she checked, 'is there anything I can do?' But he shook his head - he just needed to rest, that was all. 'It was lucky you had those first aid supplies on you,' the demon woman said, 'otherwise you might have bled out.'

'It's just a scratch!' Doyle protested, 'I was never in any danger. Anyway - I wasn't lucky. I always carry 'em, lately.'

'How come?' she stared deep into his eyes. He shuffled his feet and then stared at the floor. He cleared his throat. 'Because … back when I was part of Angel's team there was somebody to take care o' all that. Someone I care about very much. Now … she isn't here to help me and … carryin' that stuff makes me feel close to her.'

'Her,' Kali muttered, biting her lip, 'figures.' Then she stretched her hand out and put it under Doyle's chin, raising his head so he was looking at her again. 'Are you sure you're OK?' she asked softly, 'you know - you could come inside - I could get you something to drink … I could take care of you.'

But Doyle backed away, shaking his head, 'no - no,' he stuttered, stumbling backward. 'Thanks - but no. I gotta...' he indicated his own door with his head, 'I better get in and rest. I don't want … I don't need … I just wanna go to sleep. See y' in the morning?' He reached the door to his motel room - shoved the key in the lock and fell through the door, slamming it behind him - all without a backward glance at Kali.

_**...**_

_So things were getting complicated for poor Doyle. He'd rescued Kalimania from being held prisoner in a brothel and now she was falling for him. And can you blame her? Just look at those eyes! Dreamy - am I right? But our little Irish prince was still hung up on our one and only Cordelia - who couldn't even remember who he was, and who would hate him again, once she got her memory back. Phew - you keeping all that straight? So Doyle is having to be the perfect gentleman and keep Kali at arms length, without hurting her feelings, whilst she pursues him like he's Sir Lancelot to her Guinevere. Meanwhile - over at the Hyperion…_

**_..._**

'Are we in love?' Cordelia asked. Angel took a step back and looked confused, 'hmm,' he said. 'Are we?' she asked again.

'What?'

'In love!'

'With each other?'

Cordelia became impatient. 'Mister - if you start giving me the run around... ' But Angel began to protest. He didn't know the answer, he told her. He wasn't sure. She raised a sceptical eyebrow - her tone, when she spoke, betrayed her irritation. 'Now, I think that's the sort of thing I'd remember,' she told him, 'hey, maybe you wrote it down somewhere - a note on the fridge, maybe?'

'I had feelings for you,' he told her, 'and I think - I hoped you had feelings for me. But…' he shook his head. 'It was all early days,' he explained, 'we were supposed to meet - out on the bluffs - to talk … except I got sunk to the bottom of the ocean, instead. When Doyle and Wesley rescued me…'

'_Doyle_ rescued you?' She smiled, as she thought of the little Irishman who always seemed to come through.

'And Wesley,' he reiterated, quickly, 'we were - I guess we were moving towards something. But … then you lost your memory - and now here we are.'

'What were we moving towards?' she asked.

'I don't know!' he exclaimed, 'we were kissing - on the sofa, in the hotel room - it was nice…'

'Was it?' she asked, 'aren't you my boss? How do I know you weren't harassing me - and I couldn't say no because you'd fire me? Maybe that's what I wanted to talk about that night on the bluffs - you thought of that? Maybe I had a red hot restraining order in my mitts.'

Angel looked confused, 'harassing? … in the workplace ... I would never… well, there was that time at the ballet and the stripping and the groping - but that was a spell! And you wanted to meet in Malibu on the bluffs at night - that's a pretty romantic restraining order!'

'Don't yell at me,' she turned away from him, 'you're yelling at me.'

'I'm not!' he shuffled uncomfortably, 'see, this is why I didn't want to answer questions that I don't have the answers to.' That made Cordelia roll her eyes. 'Look,' Angel said to her, 'all I know - is that you are my dearest friend. And I just hope that - I just - I want that back. That much at least.'

Cordelia sighed and pushed her short hair away from her face, in frustration. This was killing her. He didn't understand just how much the not knowing was eating away at her. She knew all sorts of life stuff: her alphabet, American history, the name of the President - though she wouldn't be sorry if that tidbit of info had gone AWOL along with the rest of her mind. But … no matter how many times she said it - how she tried to connect - she didn't recognise the sound of her own name. She turned to look back at Angel - and he saw that there were tears standing out in her eyes, as she confessed how lonely she felt.

He took a step towards her. 'We'll get you back, no matter what. I promise you - we'll get you back.'

'What's all this 'we' pale face?' Lorne walked into the lobby - a large grin spread across his face. He carried a ceramic bottle in his hand. 'I'm the one out there doing all the leg work - well, technically lap work - 'cause look what just fell into it!' He waved the bottle at them; it was opaque and patterned, with a cork sticking out of the top. 'A memory spell,' he said, in response to his friends' questioning faces. 'Provided by one of my clients that is _guaranteed_ to bring our Cordy back the way she was.'

'Guaranteed?' Angel asked, he sounded sceptical.

'No pain. No side effects. I'm telling you, swingers - there's no way this can fail.'

_**...**_

_So - I'm an idiot. What are you - perfect? Well, the fact is, I had every reason to believe the spell would work. And it did … after a fashion. Well, what happened during and what came after … let's just say I'm gonna need a bigger SeaBreeze. But, now, the spell was legit - straight up. I had it off this wraith. Sweet girl - not overly tangible…_

**_..._**

'But she deals in memory spells, professionally. Now - she swears that, with the right mix, we can stop this talking and cut straight to the Cordelia Chase in two ticks of a … ticking thing.'

But Angel remained wary. Spells - he been involved with spells before. They were always tricky. There was always a price with magic. He didn't trust it.

But Cordelia did. She was ready to try anything to get her memory back - to look in a mirror and recognise her face, to hear her name called and know it was her being spoken to. To remember her friends - and what they meant to her - and who she was in love with, and who she was mad at. Pain, side effects - being turned into a moussaka - she was willing to risk it all. Just as long as she remembered she was a moussaka, she would be happy.

'Don't even worry about it, Cara Mia,' Lorne said to her, leading her into the office, 'I've got all the ingredients lined up. Just as soon as we gather the seven, then we're good to go.'

Angel stared after the retreating demon. 'The seven what?' he called.

* * *

Wesley stood in his apartment and tested the new weapon the delivery man had brought him. It was concealed - strapped to his wrist - that shot out stakes and had a collapsible sword. He liked it. 'Tell Emil that, if this tests right in the field, he'll be hearing from me again.' He gave the man a wad of cash and the man left. The phone began to ring. 'Pryce,' Wesley said into the receiver, tersely. He listened for a moment as Lorne spoke to him. 'Yes,' he agreed. Lorne continued to speak and Wesley smiled, 'Lorne,' he interrupted the chatty demon, 'I said yes. I'll be there, right away. If it works - it's worth doing. Alright is everything - uh - is everyone there?...No. No. I was just wondering if everything was alright with Fred?'

* * *

Doyle poured himself a scotch - just a small one, before bed. His side was sore and he hoped the alcohol would numb the pain a little. And he hoped it would make him feel less anxious and awkward about Kali. She wasn't moving on - wasn't getting over him, even though it was over a week since he'd rescued her. She needed to move on - he needed to let her down gently, but he wasn't sure how to do that. He'd never had to turn a girl down before.

The phone began to ring. He drained the last drop of his drink before he answered. 'Hello? Oh - hey Lorne… y' can do _what?_' He tumbled off his bed and began to pull his pants back on, 'yeah, yeah I'll be there right away - that's great news. Hey -' he suddenly paused, with one leg down his trousers, and balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder, 'is Fred back at the hotel? Is she OK?'

**_..._**

_I know, I know - I should be asking why everyone has a sudden interest in the well being and whereabouts of Freddikins. What can I say - hindsight's 2020. Tell me something I don't know._

**_..._**

* * *

Fred and Gunn lay side by side in their bed. They weren't touching. Or talking. But both of them lay staring at the ceiling - wide awake. There was a knock on the door and Fred went to answer it. It was Angel. 'What do you want?' Fred asked.

* * *

Gunn came down the stairs, Lorne had daubed a symbol in white paint on the floor: a circle with seven spokes coming out of it - like a wheel. In the middle sat the opaque, ceramic bottle and he was laying out various spooky looking paraphernalia along the painted lines. 'Oh goody,' the street fighter said, 'symbols on the floor - this always ends well for us.'

'Check your sarcasm at the door,' Lorne replied, absentmindedly, still setting up, 'this is for Cordelia.'

'And you really think it'll work?' Fred sounded doubtful.

'Guaranteed - jumping Judas on a unicycle, but you guys are all the most distrustful sourpusses I've come across, today.'

'Sorry Lorne,' Fred said, 'it's been a … long day.' Gunn didn't say anything in reply. He just looked away, glowering.

'Well, luckily - my parade is rainproof,' Lorne told them, 'this spell is gonna bring our Cordy right back to us. Lo-lath ch-owrng ne bruun.'

'Kaya - no -m'tek,' Fred said back to him.

...

The door opened and Wesley hurried in. He looked confused at the strange noises Fred was speaking. 'Did I miss the spell?' he asked, 'did English go away?'

Lorne chuckled and straightened up - having finally finished preparing - 'no, strudel, it was Pylean. I said 'I may be prepared to shout a joyful chant'.'

'And I said 'may your words please the gods',' Fred told him. She looked surprised to see him there. Gunn looked angry.

'Are you alright?' Wes asked Fred, 'did you...?' She glanced down and bit her lip. Gunn snorted with disgust and looked away from the pair of them. 'He's gone,' Fred told Wes, 'it … got taken care of.'

_**...**_

_OK, first of all, she didn't say 'may your words please the gods' she said 'may you orally please the gods' which is a slight … inflection's very crucial in our … Oh, God bless her. It's always nice to hear the mother tongue - as long as it's not coming from my mother. _

_And secondly - I didn't know that, a couple of hours ago, Fred had tried to kill her evil professor, by opening up a portal and sending him to hell. She didn't know that Gunn knew she had asked Wesley for help. And Wesley didn't know that Doyle had intervened and stopped Fred from becoming a killer - sending the professor to Pylea, instead. Glad I wasn't there for that … this Dorothy aint never going back to Kansas, if you know what I'm saying. _

_So - you see - I wasn't in full possession of all the facts, when I started this. It's my job to read people - but nobody in this clan was exactly singing. And me? Hey! I was thinking about Cordelia … and I wasn't the only one..._

**_..._**

The door opened, again, and this time it was Doyle who hurried through. 'Am I late? Did we start already? Am I late?' He drew up short, as he saw the small group of people in the lobby, most of whom looked intense and serious. He made eye contact with Fred - and nodded. She looked away.

'Not late at all - we're just about ready to start!' Lorne greeted him, enthusiastically, 'now you're here, we'll have Cordy back in no time. Thanks for coming.'

'Yeah,' Gunn approached the Irishman and shook his hand, clapping him on the back, '_thanks_,' he said. He hadn't been this friendly towards Doyle since before he found out that Doyle had helped Wesley kidnap Connor - and the Irishman realised that his sudden change in attitude towards him must be because Fred had told him what had gone down at Caritas. 'No problem,' he muttered. He looked back across at Fred - and found she was now glowering at him, darkly. He swallowed. He may have won back Gunn's friendship, but he had made an enemy of Fred.

Wesley, who had no idea of the role that Doyle had played in the drama that evening, was now watching the way Gunn shook the Irishman's hand - the way he greeted him like he was a brother, once more. He compared it to the blows and kicks he, himself, had sustained at the hands of the street fighter earlier that night. He narrowed his eyes and lowered his brow - wondering why Doyle was now being accepted back into the fold. He felt a tug of jealousy, low down in his belly. He turned back to Fred…

* * *

Cordelia sat out in the courtyard, by herself. The moon was big and round in the sky and winking down at her. The fragrance from the jasmine bushes scented the air - almost overpowering this night - this was a lovely place to sit out. Maybe, in a couple of hours, she would remember all the times she had sat out here before. With Angel. With Doyle…

The door opened behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to look - and then smiled warmly when she saw who it was. 'Hey,' she said.

'Hey,' Doyle stepped down off the veranda and came and sat beside her. 'How are you doing?'

'Good - I'm good.' She turned to look at him, 'thanks for helping out with Fred today - I heard… I heard you stopped her killing somebody which is... probably for the good.'

'I hope so,' he said, 'though I don't think she'll be forgivin' me any time soon. Still - I'd rather have her hate me for getting in her way, than having her hate herself for what she'd done.'

Cordy's smile grew even wider, 'you're so selfless,' she said. That made him chuckle. 'Well - let's see if that's what you're callin' me once we're done with this spell, yeah?'

'God - I hope it works,' she told him, 'I can't wait - to be me again! To know who I am and what I like and where I keep my own coffee mugs. It's gonna be great!' He smiled at her words, but she noticed that his smile was sad. 'What?' she asked him.

'Nothin',' he said, 'I .. can't wait for you to be you again, either. I'll be really happy for y'.'

'So why do you look like the thought's giving you a stomach ache?'

He sighed, and smiled - trying to make it warm and reassuring. 'I'm just … not being as selfless as I should be,' he told her. 'I really will be happy for y', Cordy. I really want y' to get better…'

'But?'

'But … I'm gonna really miss y' not hatin' me,' he admitted. She bit her lip and then reached out to take his hand in her own, 'hey,' she said softly. He looked up at her, making eye contact, 'whatever I remember after this - whatever you did … I'm not gonna forget that you were here for me when I needed you. That you told me the truth when everyone else was lying. That you listened to me and helped me - when the others wouldn't. It's - it's been so… lonely - not knowing who I am. You made everything a little bit easier, made me feel safer, made me feel less alone. I won't forget that, Doyle.'

She squeezed his hand. Behind them, the door opened, again - and they both turned to see who it was - still holding hands. Angel stood in the doorway. He stared at their interlocked fingers for a moment and then looked up at their faces, 'uh - the spell - Lorne says it's nearly ready. We need to - uh …' he motioned inside with his head - and then looked down at their clasped hands, once more.

'Right,' Cordelia smiled brightly, disentangled her fingers from Doyle's and then headed inside, 'time to get this show on the road.'

Doyle stood up and followed her inside, more slowly. As he passed Angel, still standing in the doorway, the vampire spoke again. 'You think you got a shot with her, again?' he asked, 'now she doesn't remember what you did?'

Doyle stopped and looked him full in the face. 'No,' he said, simply.

'So why are you here, then?'

'Because I still care about her - even if she doesn't care about me.'

* * *

Wesley walked into the office. He found Gunn in there - alone - waiting for him. 'So - I guess I'm the muscle,' Gunn said to him.

'what?'

'Angel's the man on the card,' the street fighter shrugged, 'it's his world. I'm not a leader no more. Don't got that champion's heart like Cordy. Doyle - he was always our eyes and ears and you - you were the brain. So I guess that leaves the muscle.'

'What about Fred?' Wesley asked.

'Well - that's the question isn't it?' Gunn said, he folded his arms across his chest. 'Fred's pretty brainy too. Maybe you two are kindred souls. Maybe that's why she went to you for help getting revenge on that professor. Killing takes brains.'

Wesley stared up and him, 'I told you before - I only did what you weren't prepared to do.'

'Right…' Gunn nodded, 'and I'm meant to think it was really Fred you were thinking of, when you taught her how to send a man to hell. Her well being.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Don't think I can't smell this a mile off - you make a move on Fred, and I will put you down hard.'

Wesley smirked, 'I'm glad to see you have such faith in your relationship.' Gunn stepped up closer towards the watcher - going toe to toe, 'keep pushing, English.'

'Do you think you could get out of my way?' He put his hand up to push Gunn aside. Gunn grabbed it - and the blade from the hidden contraption came springing out, missing Gunn's face by an inch. 'We don't all have muscle to fall back on.'

'What happened to you, man?' Gunn asked him - sounding disbelieving at how far the man who had once been his brother, his best friend, had travelled down the path of darkness.

* * *

The group sat around the circle - each sitting at one of the seven spokes. They held hands. The bottle was in the middle of the symbol, lying down, uncorked. 'OK,' Lorne said, 'eyes on the bottle.' He began to chant. 'We come in supplication and hope - bring her back.'

The bottle began to spin, round and round, faster and faster. A misty, amber light began to stream from its open neck - seven streams, which each headed for one of the seven people. The light entered each person - and they dropped hands, breathing heavily as they felt the magic start to affect them.

'What's going on?' Cordelia breathed, she fell backwards so she was lying down.

'I feel a little …' Lorne crawled away from the circle. He dragged himself behind the counter - and then collapsed into unconsciousness. 'What's happening to us?' Gunn asked - his head felt heavy and his words were slurred. Angel stumbled to his feet and made his way outside, where he gazed, entranced, at the night sky and the plants that bloomed around him.

Fred had crawled over to a pot plant and was now examining its leaves very carefully, 'This is important,' she said, 'it's so beautiful…' she threw up, noisily, into the plant pot. Cordelia still lay on the floor - staring at the high ceiling. She was giggling - and she began to scissor her arms and legs, 'snow angels!' she cried out, 'woo - there isn't any snow...' she giggled again.

Gunn moved around the lobby, practising martial arts moves - kicking and punching the air. Wesley sat very still - right where he had started. 'We'll just see if there are any side effects,' he said and then he, like Cordelia, began to giggle, inanely.

Doyle had curled up in a ball, as he felt the light take hold of him. This wasn't … it didn't feel … there was … something - inside of him … trying to … he wasn't him anymore … he was forgetting... 'What's happening?' he groaned. He forced himself to his feet. He needed to … stop this … before… 'we can't just...' he said to the others, 'we have to …' but they weren't listening. 'No!' he stood on the bottle, with his full weight, and crunched it into a hundred pieces.

* * *

Cordelia sat up, with a gasp - and stared at the badly dressed older guy standing just above her. Her eyes widened with fear and she scooched backwards.

...

Francis gazed down at the beautiful girl on the floor - she was looking at him with dread - though, he didn't understand. He didn't have a clue who she was - though she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen … but she seemed to really dislike him.

...

Cordelia got to her feet - and stared around the room at all the strangers. Weirdos, freaks and losers the lot of them. What was she doing here? With these dorks? 'OK - what the hell is going on here?'

...

Wesley groaned and got to his feet. He didn't recognise either his surroundings or his companions - but this young miss seemed to be on the verge of hysteria - and it was incumbent upon him to make sure she not panic. Whatever their situation - only a calm head would prevail. 'What's your name?' he asked the panicking woman.

...

Cordelia raised one lone eyebrow at the socially inept creep who had just spoken to her. She didn't like the look of him. She didn't want anyone she knew to see her hanging around with these … people. 'Cordelia Chase, dumbass,' she snapped. 'And if this is some sort of Sophomore hazing prank, where I get doped up and left with a bunch of proto-losers, then my parents are going to be suing the whole of Sunnydale, comprendez?'

...

'What the hell are you talking about?' Gunn stared at the hysterical white chick. Just his luck - wake up surrounded by white folks making demands. He didn't know where he was - but he wanted out of here. Fast.

...

'It's called kidnapping a minor, hair club for men,' Cordelia retorted - not in the least cowed by the angry young man glowering at her. 'And if you think for a second I'm gonna be putting up with this, then you don't know Cordelia…' the door opened and another man walked through the door. This one was tall and broad. '...Cordelia…' he had _good_ hair and a strong jawline and he looked like he worked out _a lot_. She forgot what she had been saying. '_Hello salty goodness,'_ she breathed.


	22. Spin the Bottle: Part Two

_Part Two_

The group stood in the middle of the lobby - eyeing each other suspiciously. Francis stood a little on the edge, crowds of people - strangers - made him nervous. He didn't like to put himself forward - and everyone else here seemed so brash and confident. Except for the guy over by the door - who had crouched down, balanced on his tiptoes, and was hugging himself tightly. That guy seemed even more uncomfortable, even more of an outsider, than Francis felt.

The British guy was talking - in his snooty, take charge, British sort of voice. The kind of voice that could wander onto a foreign land, plant a flag and claim an empire … because you just didn't think to argue with that sort of voice. It just sounded so … sure of itself. 'All right, hang on - you're Cordelia Chase? You're a high school student and you live in Sunnydale?'

'Right,' the beautiful girl - Cordelia - what an unbelievably beautiful name... agreed.

'So who are you?' The bossy Brit asked the unbelievably tall, darkly scowling, black man. 'I'm the guy who's gonna be kicking a whole mess of ass if somebody don't tell me what's going on,' the angry young man said.

'What do they call you for short?' the beautiful Cordelia quipped.

'Does anybody here recognise anyone?' the Bossy Brit asked, looking around. Francis shook his head - and then dropped his eyes to the floor, not wanting to attract anyone's attention - not wanting them to start asking him questions. Everybody else was shaking their heads too.

'I'm Fred Burkle,' the other girl stepped forward, she spoke to the beautiful Cordelia, 'I'm in school too, in San Anton.'

'Oh - we're both in school? Gosh! Let's be best friends. So I can lose all my cool ones.' She might be beautiful - but she was mean. Francis was glad he hadn't said anything, hadn't told her he also went to school. There weren't any girls at Francis' school - the girls' school was across the road, where they were taught by the nuns - and, for the first time ever, Francis was beginning to think he might be pleased about being in an all boys' school. It was certainly less terrifying than having to deal with someone like Cordelia everyday.

The Brit was also frowning at Cordelia's meanness towards Fred. 'There's no need to be snippety, miss,' he admonished her. But she just blew a raspberry. 'Oh - this is a clarion call for snippety, Princess Charles.'

Francis snorted with laughter, and immediately brought his hand up to his mouth to muffle the sound. The Brit gave him a disapproving stare and then turned back to Cordelia. 'Actually, it's Wesley, thank you. Wyndam Pryce.' He grabbed his jacket by the lapels and puffed himself up with pride. 'I am from the Watcher's Academy in southern Hampshire. In fact, I happen to be head boy.'

'Gee I wonder how you earned that nickname,' Cordelia was back to being snippety.

'A lot of effort, I don't mind telling you.'

Francis snorted again. Again he tried to hide it. She was funny - Cordelia - mean, but funny. He didn't want to get on the wrong side of her, didn't want her to even look at him if he was honest - she was terrifying, but he did like her jokes.

'Gunn,' said the black guy.

'Where?' Wesley whirled around, looking - in a panic. 'Me,' Gunn said, deciding it was time to join in with the introductions. 'That's my name. The short version.'

'Ah,' Wesley looked relieved, 'what school do you attend?' But Gunn just rolled his eyes. Cordelia tutted - and left the group - walking straight past Francis, without looking at him, and went up to speak to the loner on the edge of the group. 'So, we've heard from the socially handi-capable,' she said, 'what's your story?'

'Mad,' the loner with the sticky up hair muttered to himself, 'you're all mad - your clothes. Your speech. What land is this?'

'What land is it supposed to be?' Gunn asked.

'Yes,' Wesley called to him, 'where do you hail from, friend?'

'I'm not your friend, you English pig. We never wanted you in Ireland and we don't want you now.'

'You're Irish?' Gunn said, sounding confused.

'He's not Irish,' Francis spoke at last.

'You don't sound Irish,' Cordelia said to the crazed loner.

'That's because he's not Irish,' Francis said, again.

'I most certainly am Irish,' the loner replied, indignantly, 'and I most certainly do sound exactly …' he stopped talking and raised his hand to his throat, 'there's something wrong with my voice.'

'He's a plastic paddy,' Francis told the others, recognising the loner for what he was, 'the world is full o' 'em - you know the type '_my great great grandfather's next door neighbour once traded a horse in Donegal and now I celebrate St. Patrick's day 'cause it's my heritage_,' he shook his head, 'they're everywhere - it's embarrassin'.'

Cordelia turned to look at him - she raked her eyes up and down him a couple of times, he squirmed under her scrutiny. '_You_ sound Irish,' she said to him.

'That's 'cause I'm from Finglas,' he told her - then he blushed and hastily corrected himself, 'but we're not rough - just poor.'

'So…' Wesley looked between the two men who claimed to be Irish, 'do either of you have names?'

'Francis.'

'Liam.' Liam raised his hand to his throat once more looking concerned. Cordelia rolled her eyes again, 'great - we all have names.' She began to walk to the door. Francis watched her go - he didn't want her to leave, but he was too scared of her to try and talk her into staying. Fortunately, the Bossy Brit had no such worries. 'I wouldn't be so hasty if I were you, Miss Chase,' he said in that fussy, uppercrust voice of his. 'Clearly, we are all victims of some nefarious scheme.'

Liam had taken himself off to sit on the staircase. He kept his hand to his windpipe and practised saying his name, 'Liam… Liiiaaaam.' Francis glanced over at him, shook his head and then raised his hand, 'uh - Wesley?' But Wesley was still pontificating. 'I'll lay odds that that door is bolted shut,' he pointed at the front door, 'and who knows what peril lies outside it?'

'English pig,' Liam muttered to himself, 'English pig?' trying again. Francis gave him another disbelieving glance - though Wesley seemed not to mind. But then with that voice ... a god given belief that you ruled the world probably meant that rude names from foreigners just rolled right off you, like water off a duck's back. 'Wesley?' he said again - this time, louder.

Wesley turned to look at him, 'Francis?'

'Well - I don't wanna be the one to ask the stupid question but … where are we? I mean when…' he cast a disapproving look at his so called fellow Irishman, '_Liam_ over there asked what this land was - he kinda had a point. I'm from Ireland - you're from England. God alone knows where Liam, the wannabe paddy, comes from and everyone else seems…' he glanced at the other three, '... American?' he said questioningly. Hoping none were Canadian and he hadn't just offended someone.

'L.A,' Gunn said.

'Texas,' Fred said.

'Sunnydale - south Cal,' Cordelia finished up. She looked across at Gunn, 'you really come from L.A?' she asked. He nodded. 'Man - I would kill to live in L.A!' she told him, 'that close to that many shoes.' He rolled his eyes.

'Hmmm,' Wesley was looking thoughtful. 'I see your point,' he smiled broadly, as a thought hit him, 'we could be literally anywhere in the world!'

'And that's a good thing?' Cordelia asked.

'Well - wherever we are - at least some of us are far from home,' Francis said. He gazed around the lobby, taking in the art deco features, the high ceilings, '...and I think it might be me. We … we don't have buildin's like this in Finglas. Least - not ones I've seen, anyways.'

'Yes - well, before we do anything,' Wesley said - taking charge, once more - 'I suggest we gather as much information as we can.'

'And I suggest we gather some cops,' Cordelia said. She just wanted to get the hell out of here and get whoever had done this to her locked up in jail for fifty thousand years. But Gunn did not want the cops involved. And Fred was inclined to agree. She thought this might be some kind of conspiracy - her friend, Levon, said that the government were always kidnapping kids and doing experiments on them. 'Did anybody else have to take a personality disorder test, recently?' she raised her hand as she spoke, to show that she had indeed taken such a test. 'They ask you about politics and your bowel movements and if you want to be a florist…'

Francis gave the Texan girl a confused look, and shook his head. She was even weirder than the plastic paddy. It seemed Cordelia agreed with him. 'OK,' she said, 'we've heard from Scarlet O'pleaseshutmeup. Does anybody sane have a theory?'

'There's conspiracies and stuff,' Fred assured them, looking round, 'y'all don't even know.'

'I got no problem with the idea that the man is messing with us,' Gunn agreed with Fred. Wesley shook his head - he was losing control of the situation. 'The important thing is to start with the facts,' he insisted. 'We're all from different cities, we're all of an age…' he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, frowning as he felt the course bristles, 'judging from the amount of facial hair I've grown we've all been unconscious for at least a month.'

Cordelia suddenly screamed and everyone turned to look at her. She was backing away, clutching at the ends of her short bob. 'Oh God, oh god - my hair!' She sounded distraught, 'the government gave me bad hair!'

'No, no,' Fred rushed forward to reassure her, 'its nice.'

'Yes,' Wesley nodded - looking wrongfooted, not sure how to cope with a distraught woman in the ranks, 'it's- uh - just the thing.'

'Are you sure?' Cordelia still sounded upset - but hopeful. She looked around at them and they all nodded that yes, her hair was fine. No need to fret. 'It's - uh - very attractive,' Wesley told her, then his face lit up, 'but nevertheless it's a clue! Perhaps the whole point of this experiment is hair!' he touched his stubble again.

Francis tutted and looked around, disbelievingly. Gunn seemed to share in his sentiment, 'I vote he's not in charge,' he said. Francis snickered, looking down at his feet to hide his laughter. He caught sight of the thick black hair that spread across his chest - poking out of the top of his vest and creeping towards his neck. He jumped, in alarm, and hastily buttoned his shirt up all the way to the top.

'It's the devil, it's the devil,' Liam said from his place on the stairs, rocking backwards and forwards.

'My hair?' Cordelia still sounded upset. Francis fastened his last button. His shirt was too tight around his neck now but it was better than having … _that_ … out on display. Where the hell had that come from?

'My father said I was a sinner,' Liam muttered, 'that I'd come to a bad end. Now I've come to hell.' Francis rolled his eyes, hard - plastic paddies, man - their Catholicism was as out of date as their politics. 'No one believes in literal hell anymore,' he told Liam - making his voice slow and clear, because Liam was clearly simple. 'And I hate to break it to you, bud - but that whole transubstantiation thing is _a smoke screen._' He shook his head.

Gunn was equally underwhelmed by Liam's pronouncement. If this was hell, it sure was a lot nicer than his place. Wesley puffed himself up again - this talk of hell wasn't helping, They were somewhere very real and they needed to figure out where it was. They needed to get the lay of the place before they could work out what to do next.

Gunn's expression darkened, 'don't go giving me orders,' he said, 'I run my own crew.'

'I'm sure your seafaring adventures are very interesting, but I have experience of things you couldn't imagine. I'm not head boy for nothing.'

Gunn stepped up towards him - going toe to toe and snarled down into Wesley's face. 'You're about to be headless boy, you don't get out of my face.'

'Intimidation - ha ha - points for effort.' Wesley's voice was weak and weedy as he stared up at the glowering slab of muscle, but he stood his ground. 'Perhaps a little _kar-ate_ technique will put you in your place.' He then began to wave his gangly arms around in a very poor impression of Bruce Lee. It was pretty embarrassing just to watch. But, as the bossy Brit bent his wrist down, a concealed dagger suddenly shot out from inside his sleeve. Wesley yelled and jumped back - both he and Gunn stared down at the weapon now protruding from beneath his jacket.

'What the hell is that?' Cordelia asked, marching forward to inspect it. It was a wooden stake - and Wesley realised that this changed the scenario quite a bit. This meant that - whyever they were here - it was linked to his own world, his own people and the secrets they kept. Fred waved her own arms around, copying Wesley's poor Karate moves, but she was disappointed to find that she didn't get a weapon of her own. In fact, only Wesley carried a weapon - and that only confirmed what he was beginning to suspect. He suggested they look around for more weapons - and for once, Gunn agreed with him.

They all spread out and began to search around. Fred and Gunn headed behind the counter - where they found something that made them pull up short. Fred screamed. Wesley twisted to see what was troubling her - and inadvertently set off his concealed weapon. This time the sword unfolded itself and snapped out of his sleeve, he waved it around, unable to control it, and screaming himself - until he went stock still; his shoulders hunched and his arms held stiff. 'Alright,' he said, 'nobody scream... or touch my arms.'

Francis helped him fold the sword back up and get it tucked back inside his jacket and then the two of them went round the counter to see what everyone else was staring at. There was a green … creature lying on the floor. It had little red horns at each temple and a hooked nose. It seemed to be unconscious. It was like nothing Francis had ever seen before. Green skinned people - the thought of it made his flesh crawl.

Cordelia was also staring down at the creature in disbelief. 'OK, this is even less funny,' her voice sounded more irritated than ever, 'what the hell is that?'

'It's the devil,' Liam gasped. Fred tilted her head and scrutinised the creature. 'Why is the devil so sleepy?' she asked.

* * *

The Groosalug knocked on Kalimania's door. She opened it, looking hopeful - but her expression became disappointed when she saw who it was. 'Oh - it's you,' she said, 'what do you want?'

'Noble lady, his Majesty tasked me to be your protector - I am merely here to check that all is well with you and that you do not require the blade of the Groosalug to keep you safe this evening.'

'No,' she said, 'I'm fine - thanks. But, Doyle can protect me - from this thing that's coming. I don't need you, as well.'

'Apologies lady, but King Fran_cis_doyle did specifically tell me that he was not able to protect you, and that I should act in his stead.'

'He's just being modest,' Kali assured Groo, 'he's more than man enough for the task.'

'But - lady -'

'Good night,' she said pointedly, and shut the door.

'Lady -' Groo began again - but she wasn't listening and he found himself face to face with the wood of her locked bedroom door. He shook his head. It was just as in Pylea - when her radiance, the chosen consort, had preferred his Majesty to the undefeated champion. Women flocked around the King and ignored the Groosalug. It must be because of the unsightly bulge in his biceps, he supposed - and the odd curve of his jaw.

_**...**_

_Poor Groo, huh? Far from home and nobody to talk to. And he's falling for the woman who's falling for Doyle - who's in love with Cordy who's hoping to find out if she's in love with Angel. Seems our little love triangle has grown a few extra sides. Now it's more like a love pentagram. Am I right? … Anyway, enough about them. In the meanwhile, guess what I'm doing for fun…_

**_..._**

* * *

The group had moved the devil onto the round sofa and Wesley was now running round and round taping the devil in place with duct-tape. The rest of them looked on. 'I say we chop its head off,' Gunn said, his arms were crossed across his chest and he stared down at the tied up creature like it was something dirty - disgusting.

Francis gulped, the thought made him feel queasy. 'Look - if there's gonna be head choppin', then I want to be elsewhere. Violence it's … not really my line. I invent all kinds o' embarrassin' diseases just to get myself outta hurlin' and rugby - I told Father O'Malley I had chronic diarrhoea for three weeks runnin'. We do Hurling _as Gaeilge. _I had to learn the Irish word for diarrhoea - It's '_buinneach'_ by the way. He called me 'Diarrhoea Doyle' for a month, but I still kept tellin' him I had it. That's how much I hate anythin' that might end in injury. I'm really not up for a spot o' murder.' As he stopped talking, he realised everyone was staring at him. Cordelia's beautiful nose had a wrinkle of disgust in it. He gulped again, this was why he didn't like to talk in front of people - he always said too much of the wrong thing. 'What I mean is … I don't wanna chop no one's head off. Even if they're green… maybe forget the diarrhoea part.'

'Yes .. well,' Wesley was also looking a little bit disgusted. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and then sought to imprint his authority on the situation, once more. 'Anyway, he -' he motioned towards the green creature, 'may have information we need, when he wakes up.'

But Gunn was not convinced - and wasn't up for taking orders from Mary Poppins. They didn't know if the tape would hold him, once the creature was awake. They'd better chop his head off, now.

'Thank you very much, Marie Antoinette.'

'What did you just call me?'

'Hey hey!' Cordelia stepped in between the two of them and looked between them, 'you two wanna stop the homo-erotic buddy cop session long enough to explain this? Wooden stakes, a guy with horns. And neither of you seem that surprised when things just keep getting weirder.'

Fred, Francis and Liam all nodded in agreement. Weird was definitely the word of the day, here, but neither Gunn or Wesley seemed anywhere near as surprised as the rest of them over the various twists their evening was taking.

Wesley nodded his head, he took a deep breath and gripped his lapels in both hands before staring around at them all with a very serious, and slightly smug, expression on his face. 'All right,' he announced, 'I'm going to let you all in on something you may have trouble comprehending. I assure you that, however…'

'Vampires are real,' Gunn cut in.

Wesley turned on him, frustrated and outraged, 'I was telling!'

'Vampires are all over L.A - I've been fighting them my whole life.'

Francis shook his head, 'nuhuh - no way. Vampires? The blood suckin' - can't go out in the daylight, immortal kind? I'm not buyin' it.'

'You callin' me a liar?'

Francis took a step back from the angry young man and shook his head. He looked across at Wesley, 'what? Vampires are in - where did you say you were from? Hertfordshire? As well?'

'Hampshire,' Wesley corrected, 'and yes - vampires are in England - they're all across the world.'

'Not in Ireland. I don't believe it.'

'I assure you,' Wesley told him, earnestly, 'there have been vampires in Ireland, over the centuries. Why - one of the worst vampires ever recorded, a true monster of legend, was sired in Ireland. Galway - I believe. I've studied him at the Watcher's Academy.'

'Look, bud - I can believe nothin' good has ever come out of Galway. But the world's worst vampire? No way.'

'I'm from Galway,' Liam suddenly piped up. Francis glanced across at him and snorted. 'Yeah, right - y' really sound like it. So - have you ever heard o' this local devil vampire?'

But Liam shook his head, 'I never saw a devil myself - though my father tells me they're real enough.' He looked down at the creature taped up against the chair, 'is he really a vampire?'

But Gunn shook his head - he'd never seen anything like this before. Immediately, Wesley raised his hand and looked even smugger. 'Oh! I have! It's a … demon. Probably of the karathmama...nyugh family. You see? Some of us have slightly broader experience -'

'How do you kill it?' Gunn asked - not interested in its name.

Wesley puffed himself up and began to reel off facts. He knew - for definite - that this breed was nocturnal. They fed off plants … or maybe human effluvia and was .. well - it was a horned race. Gunn looked unimpressed. 'So you know jack?'

'It's nocturnal.'

Fred walked over to the tied up demon to get a closer look. Gunn decided it was time to act - and marched over to the weapons cabinet to grab one of the axes that were just … hanging around. Wesley tried to stop him, but Gunn shook him off. 'If it looks wrong - it dies.'

Wesley grabbed his arm, 'not 'til we find out ..' Gunn grabbed Wesley's neck, reaching round and grabbing him from the scruff, 'oh quit it!' Wesley cried - reaching out and grabbing hold of Gunn's ear. The two set to grappling: 'get off my…'

'Watch my arms! watch my arms!'

Liam watched the fight with a broad smile on his face. Cordelia looked between him and Francis. 'Aren't either of you gonna get in there and stop them?'

'It's about time the English got what's coming to 'em,' Liam said, watching the scrap with delight, 'I'm rooting for the slave.'

Cordelia gave him a disbelieving look and then arched her eyebrow at Francis, expecting him to step in and sort it. 'Uh … y'know - they're both a lot bigger than me. I'd probably just get my nose flattened.'

She stared pointedly at his prominent nose, 'that might not be a bad thing,' she told him, 'so - you're just gonna cry chronic diarrhoea and sit this one out?'

'Pretty much my game plan - yeah,' he gave her a weak smile. She rolled her eyes in disgust.

Fred was also ignoring the fight. She now had one knee rested on the sofa, beside the demon, and was staring down into his face; touching his horns, inspecting him.

_**...**_

_OK, I know I'm_ _unconscious for this part but … can you believe these mooks?_

**_..._**

Cordelia stepped up to the two fighting men and got in between them - holding them apart with her outstretched arms. 'Enough. OK. If head cheese, here, has a theory then let's hear it.'

Wesley straightened his clothes and tried to regather his dignity. 'There are stories at the Watcher's Academy of a test,' he told them. 'A secret gauntlet which only the most cunning can survive. You're locked in a house with a vicious, deadly vampire and you have to kill him before he kills you. It's been done in the past with slayers.'

'Slayer?' Fred looked excited, 'the band?'

Wesley look put out - no - not the band. His point was - this could all be a test - it all fit: the weapons; the maze-like locale; the innocent civilians; the mysterious karathmama-nyugh demon … this was a test!

'I aint a civilian,' Gunn objected, 'I've been killing vampires since I was twelve.'

Francis was impressed. When he was twelve … his mam was despairing of him because he still hadn't made altar boy and now she figured he never would… he never had.

'That only supports my theory,' Wesley was saying, 'you must be here in an advisory capacity.'

'I think I'm here in a 'chop that green bitch's head off' capacity - and I don't give a damn about no test.'

Cordelia glanced between the sniping men and the front door, which was looking more and more inviting every moment she stayed locked inside with these losers. 'Keep explaining why we're not walking out that door?' she said. She was not up for a spot of vampire hunting. That was not what Cordelia Chase did for fun.

'Because they did something to us,' Liam told her, 'they changed us.'

'You mean this is about my hair?'

Francis glanced down, checking his buttons were still covering up … whatever the hell that was doing there.

Fred was nodding along to Liam's words. She could see his point. None of them exactly looked 17. It was like time had been pushed forward - like they had missed a bunch of years.

Everyone began to look down at themselves, inspecting their bodies. Wesley gripped his bicep. Cordelia put her hands to her breasts and squished them, 'I kinda have filled out even more,' she said.

Fred copied her, 'and I …' she looked down, disappointed, 'apparently aint gonna.'

Francis peered down at himself. He was already bewildered enough by the masses of body hair, though he guessed that was just one problem with not having a dad - there was no way of knowing what you would look like as an adult - no way of knowing what changes to expect. But he also seemed quite a bit fatter. He'd always been lean and slender - but now he was all... squishy. He prodded himself in his round belly and frowned.

But he wasn't the only one who had changed for the worse. 'I feel all cold inside,' Liam said, hugging himself tightly.

Cordelia was busy considering the ramifications of having had time fast forward on her. She was a crappy twenty something? That was so unfair! What about prom?

'Could be that demon put a whammy on us,' Gunn suggested. Fred nodded as she thought about that. 'So, you think if we kill this vampire, they'll take off the spell whammy and we can go back to being ourselves?'

'And never see each other again?' Cordelia sounded hopeful.

'I believe we can all just go about our business,' Wesley nodded.

'And never see each other again?' Cordelia repeated.

'Great, so we go vamp hunting,' Gunn went to the weapons cabinet and took down an axe. 'This place looks pretty big - I suggest two groups of three.'

'Great, I'll go with tall, dark and slightly less pathetic than you two, here,' Cordelia said, grabbing herself a stake, 'we'll try the rooms.' She took out a sword and passed it to Liam.

'Francis, you go with Liam and Miss. Chase,' Wesley said, 'the rest of us will look downstairs.' He, Gunn and Fred walked off. 'Remember,' he said to Fred as they headed down towards the lower floors, 'if we find the vampire, it is a vicious animal. Just try and draw it in towards us. We will win this day, I assure you.'

'I'm ready,' Fred said, clutching her own weapon and sounding determined. 'It'd be cooler if we could score some weed, though.'

* * *

Cordelia walked down the corridor. Liam was slightly ahead of her, and the little runt - Francis - was walking along beside her. She wanted to ditch the third wheel. She was bored of vampire hunting and was looking to have a steamy make out session with the slab of salty goodness. 'God,' she said, 'there's like a million rooms -' she turned to Francis, 'you know - we could probably search them quicker if we split up.'

'You want us to go vampire huntin' alone? You don't think that might end in … death?'

'All I know is, I want this over with as quickly as possible. Why don't you go up one level and check that floor?'

'I'd really rather not wander off into the haunted mansion all by myself.'

She rolled her eyes, 'look - you're cramping my style - scram!'

Francis stared at her for a moment - his eyes wide and injured. But she just stared him down - her expression hard and unflinching, and he decided he was far too scared of her to argue. A vampire probably wouldn't be as mean as Cordelia. He nodded, and turned away, his head hanging low - heading for the next flight of stairs.

Cordelia smiled with satisfaction and then followed Liam down the corridor. They could hear music coming from one of the rooms - and they entered it, wondering if maybe this was the one occupied by the vampire. But it was empty - except for the radio. 'Minstrels,' Liam said, peering at the radio in bemusement. He poked it with his sword. Cordelia reached out and switched it off. He turned to look at her, impressed and confused all at once. 'How did? - you stopped the tiny men from singing.'

'You really are far from home, aren't you?'

He sat down on the bed and looked forlorn. 'I tell ya, I get through this, I'm gonna have a great cup of ale. I don't care what father says it does to you.'

Cordelia sat down beside him and shuffled up close, until their knees were touching. 'Maybe we should just sit tight and let the vampire experts deal with this thing,' she suggested. She began to rub his back in soothing circles. He turned to look at her. 'Sorry for acting so … womanish.'

'Oh - no, you're -' she slid her arm across his back and felt his bicep, 'really not womanish.'

'You're very sweet.'

She smiled and leaned in closer - so their faces were mere inches apart. 'You don't know the half of it,' she said, in her most seductive voice. 'What is it about danger that just … makes your blood just…'

As she spoke, Liam stared longingly at her neck. He felt - hunger - a hunger he couldn't explain and it was mixed with desire. He felt - he felt his face change - in response to the Chase girl's words - and in response to his hunger. Then he felt his features slide back to normal. Cordelia looked up at him, 'what's wrong?'

'Nothing,' he said, relieved she hadn't seen, 'excuse me.'

* * *

Francis arrived at the very top floor of the hotel. He pushed one door open and whistled. This place was pretty snazzy - and it looked like someone lived there. He walked through the living area, past the kitchenette and pushed open the door to the bedroom. Then he froze.

There was a crib in the the room. He crossed over to it and peered in. Yep. There was a baby in there. Sleeping. 'Well, now,' he said, softly, 'are you part o' the test, little fella?' He reached out a finger and stroked the baby's smooth skin. His face was soft, wreathed in smiles, as he looked at the tiny child, sleeping peacefully. He liked children. 'Surely they can't have left a baby in a hotel with a vicious, murderin' vampire?' he wondered out loud. 'I guess I should probably tell Wesley and the others about y'? See what they think.'

He glanced around, wondering whether he should take the baby with him - and risk waking it - or whether he should leave it where it was and bring the others up here. As he stood there, pondering, he felt a sudden tickle up his nose. His face contorted as he tried to hold the sneeze back - but it was no good. '_Achhoo_' he immediately covered his nose and mouth with his hand, trying to muffle the sound so as not to wake the baby.

But there was a sudden sharp stabbing sensation in his hand. 'What?' he took it away from his face and looked at it, wondering what had jabbed him. His eyes grew wide. His hand was green now - his skin had turned green. Like that other demon. '_What?_' He looked up - and caught sight of his face reflected in the dark window.

* * *

Liam rushed into the room adjoined to this one - not having time to wonder at the large tub and basin and - was that an indoor privvy? - instead he stared into the looking glass just above the basin. It was empty. The looking glass was empty. He was not reflected back in it.

He ran back out into the bedroom - to Cordelia - in a panic. 'I'm invisible!' he said to her. She looked up at him, confused. 'No you're not.'

'Oh - excuse me,' he ran back into the strange room with the indoor privvy.

* * *

His heart hammering in his chest, Francis rushed into the ensuite bathroom and switched on the light. He needed to see what was actually going on - couldn't trust the dark and blurry reflection in the window.

But what he saw was worse than he had feared. He was hideous! His skin was green - like the demon downstairs, but it was covered in tiny little prickles - which were blue. And his eyes were a devilish red.

He looked like a demon from hell. This was … this was… as he stared at himself, the demon face melted away and he was left staring at his own, normal, pale face.

* * *

Liam closed the door to shut Cordelia out. He looked into the looking glass one more time, but he was still not there. He felt his face change, the way it had when he had stared at Cordelia's neck. He used his fingers to explore his new features: the thickened brow, the sharp fangs. He morphed back into normal face. And then went vamp again. Back and forth and back and forth he went, getting more panicked each time. Back and forth, back and forth - getting faster and faster …

* * *

Francis concentrated - and turned his face green once more. He staggered backwards. He hadn't been imagining it - he really did have two faces - one normal and one … He brought his fingers up and felt the spikes that marred his skin. They were sharp and they hurt his fingertips. He peered in closer and stared into his own red eyes. How could this be? He morphed back into his own face and then morphed back into the green face. Back and forth he went, testing it out; green face, normal face, green face, normal face - getting faster and faster.

* * *

Cordelia knocked on the bathroom door. She could hear weird grunting going on from in there. 'Are you OK?' she called.

Inside, Liam looked up - his face turning human once more. 'Uh, I'm almost finished,' he called back. He stared around the room. 'I'm a vampire, ' he whispered to himself, horrified, 'they're going to kill me.'

* * *

Francis morphed back into his human face and stared at himself for a long time, not wanting to go back to looking like that hideous creature. 'I'm the vampire,' he said to himself, horrified realisation dawning on him. 'I'm the one they're all hunting… they're going to kill me.'


	23. Spin the Bottle: Part Three

_Part Three_

**_..._**

_If I can just bring the mood down for a moment… is there anything worse than feeling like you're all alone? Like you're the only person in the world who thinks the way you do, and if anyone found out they'd drive a wooden pointy thing through your heart?_

**_..._**

Francis took some very deep breaths and went back to stare down at the baby. He was a vampire. A monster. A killer. Maybe the baby was here as part of a test for him, to see if he would kill something so tiny and innocent and defenceless. To test how evil he really was.

He reached out and touched the baby once more. It was warm and soft and squishy. He didn't want to hurt it, he realised, the thought of harming the tiny child actually made him feel physically sick. And he didn't want to hurt the others, either.

But what if he had no choice? He was a monster - that much was obvious - what if he lost control? Went on the rampage? Perhaps the monster in him couldn't help but hurt the people around him.

He had to get away. Far away. From the baby. From Cordelia. From all the others. The only way he could make sure he didn't hurt anyone, the only way he could protect them from himself - short of offering himself up to be killed - was to get as far away as possible from all other people. A creature like him didn't deserve to be around other people, anyway.

He nodded to himself, making up his mind. He would leave the baby here - the others would find it, eventually - and he would run away. Wesley had said that the front doors would be bolted, but Francis reckoned that he would be able to chop his way through with an axe. If he could just creep down the stairs and get to the lobby without meeting anyone else, he'd be home free. The others probably wouldn't even notice he was missing.

* * *

Cordelia continued to knock on the door - and so Liam took a moment to pull himself together and then went back out to her. He couldn't think what to say - to explain his strange behaviour - and her friendliness seemed to have worn off. Rather than trying to get him back onto the bed, to continue where they have left off, she instead opened the door and the pair of them left the room, continuing their search of the hotel.

_**...**_

_Tragic aint it? Two heroes with monsters inside of them and neither one can remember how it got there, or what it means. Meanwhile - let's check in with our other fearless vampire killers…_

**_..._**

* * *

Gunn, Fred and Wesley walked through the industrial kitchen, cautiously, alert for any sound, their weapons raised. 'I just don't think we should be rulin' out the idea of aliens,' Fred said to Wesley, as Gunn walked slightly ahead of them - leading the way. 'I mean, he is a greenish sorta fella. And his bein' asleep all that time. I mean, think about it a minute.' She stopped walking and stared up into Wesley's face, 'They could have been doin' heaven knows what. I can just see myself: lying on a table; no clothes; no will; while they probed and explored and did whatever they wanted to my naked, helpless body.'

Wesley's dagger popped out, unbidden, from beneath his sleeve. Fred shook her heads, lost deep in her thoughts, 'horrible.'

'Horrible,' he agreed, his voice tight and high, 'but I assure you, this is demonic work. And they're not nearly so exploratory as…' he reached out and patted her in attempt at comfort, though it was awkward and bumbling, 'Don't be afraid.'

Ahead of them, Gunn shook his head and turned back to face them. 'I aint gettin' nothin', here - and it's cold.'

'Well don't give up probe … hope,' Wesley hastily corrected himself. 'Give up hope - we're not…' but the other two were no longer listening. They had turned and walked away.

* * *

Francis reached the very bottom of the stairs and crossed the lobby, headed for the door. He glanced around, sneakily, as he went. Sure, it was bolted - but he'd hack his way through and then just slip away into the night. None of them need ever know he was the monster. Cordelia need ever know he was the monster. He raised his axe ready to chop through the wood.

'Any luck?' The stuffy, British voice came floating through the air, and immediately Francis lowered his weapon and scurried from the door - trying to look inconspicuous, hoping Wesley wouldn't have noticed he was trying to flee. 'Uhm - no - I didn't find anythin' untoward at all. Not anywhere. You?'

'The kitchens appeared empty,' Wesley admitted, as he and the other two came into the lobby and regrouped. Cordelia and Liam appeared at the top of the stairs, then, coming down. Francis hid his axe behind his back and shuffled his feet awkwardly, as Wesley asked his question again.

Liam shook his head. 'We saw no vampires of any kind anywhere.'

'Did you check every room?'

Cordelia sighed, as she settled herself down on one of the sofas. 'Only the ones that wanted turn-down service. There's five floors. My feet hurt. You finish.'

'This is a waste of time,' Gunn announced, looking annoyed. Liam, who was surreptitiously backing towards the door, agreed. Francis frowned as he watched the other supposed Irishman move away from the group. What was his deal? Nothing had happened to _him _whilst Francis had been all alone - turning into a monster.

Liam had reached the door, though his back was still to it. He reached behind himself to grab the handle. 'There's nothing here. This place is evil and I think we should all leave now because of evil.'

'Don't be a fool!' Wesley called out, rushing towards him. But Liam didn't listen. 'Good luck, all,' he twisted the door handle and slipped out through the door. Gunn stared up at Wesley, he was sat on the floor - polishing his axe - and he did not look overly impressed, 'so - we're all locked in, huh?'

'Excuse me?' Cordelia, over on the sofa, sounded very annoyed - and they all turned to see what was wrong, now. 'Did I just get the brush off? Did a guy just bail _on me?_ This really is some kind of horrible spell.' The others shook their heads at her shallowness and looked back at each other, wondering where to go from here.

'Do you think Liam's OK out there?' Fred asked.

'Well, if something's eating him then at least he aint as bored as me,' Gunn said. Wesley looked put out. 'Joke all you like,' he sniffed, then he lowered his voice - making it dark and warning, 'Liam, right now, may be facing horrors he's never even imagined.'

* * *

Liam ran through the courtyard and reached the edge of the path way - then came to a halt. Monsters. Huge, screaming monsters were roaring down the roads. Their eyes were dazzlingly bright - they moved faster than anything Liam had ever seen and, as well as the roaring, there was a loud, angry honking coming from some of them - like a massive, demonic goose.

He turned tail and fled back towards the hotel.

* * *

The others all looked up, as Liam suddenly reappeared in the doorway and slammed it shut behind him. 'Demons!' he told them, his voice panicked. Wesley looked pleased. 'Told you,' he said to Gunn, before looking back at Liam, 'how many?'

'Hundreds. Screaming.'

Fred jumped behind one of the columns in an attempt to hide. She peered round at Liam, 'will they try and get in?'

'Don't think they saw me.'

Francis breathed a sigh of relief. Not only pleased that the demons weren't going to follow Liam inside, but also glad that his own escape attempt had been thwarted. He was already the most hideous creature he had ever seen - he didn't fancy coming face to face with hundreds of equally hideous monsters.

'What type of demons would you say they were?' Wesley was asking. Liam thought about it for a moment. 'Shiny,' he replied. He crossed the room and went to sit beside Cordelia. She looked pleased, smiling to herself. 'Yep, still got it.'

Gunn finished polishing his axe and laid it down on the floor beside him. 'Does this mean we have to finish searching the rooms?' he asked, ''cause I'm bored just sayin' it.'

'Shouldn't the vampire be coming after us?' Fred said, looking to the two vampire experts, 'aren't we vittles?'

Francis felt his stomach lurch. He felt sick at the thought. How had he ended up a demon? A monster? He didn't want to be. He didn't feel like one. He certainly didn't want to go around eating people.

'He should be starving, by rule,' Wesley told them - thinking back to the stories of the terrible test that he had heard at the Watcher's Academy. There was simply no point in pitting your wits against a predator who was too full to chase you. He began to have an idea, 'I begin to think that further searching would be pointless,' he said. 'I think the council has been far cleverer than I imagined.'

Gunn rolled his eyes, 'speech speech,' he cheered sarcastically. But Wesley ignored him and, taking hold of his lapels once more and bouncing on his tiptoes, he began to tell them his theory. 'Six people, each unknown to each other, far from home, trapped together at night …'

Liam eyed Cordelia's neck, as she sat beside him and listened to the English pig. Francis began to shuffle uncomfortably - wondering where Wesley was going with all this.

'I suspect that the blood sucking fiend may be closer than we dared suspect. That it may be…'

Liam jumped to his feet. 'I'll search the rooms!'

Francis also scrambled back to his feet, 'yeah - Liam's right. We should search. Uh - I'll check the third floor, everyone else can check … somewhere else.'

'I was getting to the good part!' Wesley stared at them both in annoyance.

'But we can't wait for the vampire to appear,' Liam argued, 'I'll just flush him out.'

'That it may be one of us!' Wesley yelled out - getting his words out very fast, determined to finish - and jumping up and down to convey the importance of his words. And to convey his annoyance - to make sure he got heard.

'Uh…' Cordelia looked even more annoyed than she had when Liam had run out on her, 'you're kidding?'

'Would that I were, Miss. Chase,' Wesley replied. Liam watched him in fear - frozen and anxious. Separate and isolated, Francis did the exact same thing. Wesley continued to talk - explaining his reasoning, whilst the two hidden monsters held their breath - unnoticed. 'The simple fact is, the fiend has been under our noses this whole time.' As he spoke he began to fumble in his inside jacket pocket. 'Waiting for the right moment to…' he pulled out a cross and shoved it into Gunn's face, 'strike!'

Gunn, tired of this crap, just punched Wesley straight in the face. Wesley fell to the floor and Liam, relieved, began to giggle. 'See! The English _is_ stupid.' He looked at the others, 'let's have a different theory,' he said quickly, hopefully.

But Wesley wasn't finished. He stared up at Liam, in annoyance. 'I'm not quite finished,' he said, 'I think it's only fair that everyone has a turn.' Francis began to shake his head, but Wesley didn't pay attention, 'now the cross clearly doesn't affect me or our friend -' he pointed at Gunn, 'the pugilist, here.'

'Oh, your ass better pray I don't look that word up.'

But to both Francis and Liam's dismay, the girls seemed to think that this was a perfectly fair request. Cordelia got up and took the cross from Wesley. She held on to it for a moment, looking supremely bored, and waved it around in front of her. When nothing happened, she tutted with impatience and passed it across to Fred. Fred used it to scan her body like a security guard with a metal detector - checking all her limbs and her torso by waving it just a few inches from her skin.

As with Cordelia, it had no effect on her, whatsoever, and - with a smile of relief - she passed it across to Francis. Feeling the nerves build inside of him, he took the cross from her hand - gingerly - his eyes squeezed tight shut; expecting something bad - something explosive - to happen. After a moment - he opened his eyes again. Nothing had happened. The cross just lay harmlessly in his right hand. He frowned, and swapped hands - still nothing. He pressed it against his right forearm - nothing. Cordelia snorted with impatience, 'we get it - you're not the vampire - pass it on, will you?' Francis nodded and held it out to Liam. He was very confused. Either Wesley was mistaken and crosses didn't affect vampires … or he wasn't a vampire. But he was definitely a monster. With the green skin and the red eyes and the hideous blue prickles - and the green skin. If he wasn't a vampire - what the hell kind of monster was he?

Liam had snatched the cross from Francis and was holding it clutched in his hand. He kept it down by his side - to try and hide - but he could feel it burning into his skin. His hand actually began to smoke - and he tried desperately to hide the pain, to keep his face impassive. 'See. No vampire here, I'm just like the rest of you.'

'Fred wrinkled up her nose, 'does anyone else smell…'

'Look! The devil's awake!' Liam interrupted her - glad of the distraction. He pointed towards the demon they held captive and dropped the cross to the floor with a clatter. Everyone moved closer to the round sofa to investigate. 'Don't get too close,' Wesley warned.

Lorne's eyes blinked open, he was wincing - his head hurt like the hangover from hell. 'Ooh - oh … guys - that was quite a whammy.' He looked up at his friends - they were all peering down at him, like he was something in a zoo - but he was still too busy thinking about the pain in his head to realise. 'A little trip through the transitive nightfall of diamonds, if you know what I mean. I certainly don't, but -'

'He speaks madness!' Liam said.

Lorne looked around at them - and then down at himself, he frowned. 'Hey - here's a funny side-bar,' he wriggled against the duct-tape restraining him, 'I'm tied to a chair! What the hell's going on?'

'We were hoping you would tell us, spawn of evil,' Wesley said to him. Lorne groaned. He was beginning to have an inkling that maybe his surefire hit spell closed out of town. 'Did anything go right?' he said looking between them, a note of hope in his voice. 'Did Cordy get her memory back?'

They group all stared at Cordelia - who looked nonplussed. 'You lost your memory?' Francis asked her.

'We all did - _duh!_ None of us knows why we're here or how we got here. That sounds like memory loss to me.'

'No - but - from what it said it sounds like …'

'Why would we trust anything it says anyway?' Gunn asked, 'it's green. It aint right.'

'Hey now!' Lorne said, sounding a little hurt, 'have I ever steered you wrong before? Besides - I'm not the only green in the family. Aint that right, dreamboat?' He winked at Francis - who froze. The others turned their gaze on him, scanning him up and down. 'What is he talking about?' Cordelia asked.

'No idea,' Francis stuttered, 'I have no idea,' he checked his hands, 'I'm not green.' Wesley shook his head. They would get no straight answers from a seed of evil. Not unless they showed it a firm hand. He pointed an accusing finger right into the demon's face. 'Just tell us where the vampire is, fiend!'

Lorne's mouth fell open in surprise. 'What are you talking about? There aren't any vampires here.' Liam felt himself relax, inside - that horrible weight he had been carrying inside his oddly cold chest seemed to melt. The devil knew nothing. But Lorne was not finished talking. He began to chuckle, 'well, I mean, except for our boy, here.' He nodded at Angel and smiled.

'Uh - lying devil man!' Liam protested, not knowing what else to do. But everyone else was starting to stare at him. The devil was scoffing at him, 'Oh, like my spell made you not a vampire anymore. My magic isn't that…'

'Shut your mouth!' He swung his fist as hard as he could right into the devil man's face.

_**...**_

_Ow!_

**_..._**

But Liam had no idea of his own vampire strength. His blow sent Lorne and the sofa sliding across the lobby, knocking the demon out, once more. He stared at his fist in amazement. But Gunn had seen strength like that before - knew what it signified. He pushed Fred behind him and hefted his axe. Liam began to back away, he could feel all eyes on him - staring, accusatory. He was panicking. He eyed the blade in the slave's hand. 'It's not - he just -'

But the English pig was not interested in listening to his explanations. 'Well, our mystery appears to be solved.' He was staring at Liam with hard eyes, like flints. His voice was hard too. Liam backed away some more.

'Explains the lame ass cover story about being Irish, too,' Gunn said - heading towards the vampire, still wielding his axe.

Cordelia turned to look at Francis, her face was furious. 'Is this a convenient time to point out you left me alone with him?' she demanded, 'genius!'

Francis mouth fell open in protest, 'you told me to scram! You wanted me outta the way so you could suck face with your undead boy toy. Don't put this on me, lady!'

'Well -_ you_ \- should have known better than to listen to me, considering the circumstances we were under. Vampire hunting _\- hello?_ Don't you have horror movies back in - wherever the hell you come from? The hot girl always gets killed first - _you_ should've stuck to me like super glue.'

'You didn't want me to!'

'What's that got to do with it?'

'You're terrifying!'

'_He could have eaten me!' _

'I never touched her,' Liam said quickly, looking between Wesley and Gunn, as they closed in on him.

'So - clearly deviant,' Cordelia said.

'I'm not!'

Wesley was fiddling with the concealed weapon strapped to his wrist, trying to get the stake to come out - as he moved closer towards the demon who had pretended to be Liam. 'Vampires are all the same, my friend,' he said, 'there's nothing human about them.' He found the right catch and a stake sprang forth from beneath his sleeve, poised.

'That's right,' Gunn said, circling, menacingly, 'You aint a person. Just dust waiting to happen.'

'I don't want to hurt anyone,' Liam said - and he wasn't lying, he really didn't. A part from the cold inside his chest, he really didn't feel any different to how he normally felt. Sure, he enjoyed a brawl in a tavern, as much as the next bloke. But he never wanted to do serious damage - it was all in fun. Truth be told - he'd take a cup of ale and a woman over a fight, any day of the week. But none of these strangers - with their unusual clothes and their mad way of talking - wanted to listen to him. They were as bad as his father. Judging him without giving him a chance. The ladies were staring at him like he was a monster. The English pig and the slave were closing in ready to kill him. Only the runty peasant from Finglas was staying well back … but then peasants just weren't the same as gentlemen. It was the kind of cowardice you'd expect from them.

Fred was creeping behind Wesley, her eyes were big and round, as she stared at the real life monster, right in front of her. 'What shall we do?' she asked.

'Don't worry,' Wesley told her, 'it's all under control.'

'Are you sure?' she grabbed his arm - and that accidentally fired the stake out of its holster. It flew towards Liam. 'Sorry!' Wesley cried, before remembering, 'I mean, ha!'

The stake pierced Liam through the side - but it missed his heart by a wide margin. The pain was sudden - jarring - and Liam vamped out, in response. Well - if they were going to attack him then he would defend himself. He turned on Gunn and grabbed the axe in his hands, wrestling it away from him. Being so much stronger than a human, it was only a quick tussle and he then used his spare arm to backhand the other man, sending him flying across the room. Gunn crashed to the floor - unconscious.

Francis, stood over by the counter, ducked down - to be out of the eye line of the angry vampire. He leaned his back against the front desk, and breathed hard, peering round occasionally to see what was happening.

Liam was rounding on the others. Cordelia split from the group and fled to behind a sofa where, like Francis, she also ducked for cover. Fred cowered behind Wesley - who stood his full height and tried to block her from view.

'You want a vampire, then?' Liam roared at them, 'I guess I'm your man. I guess I'll start feeding on your corpses. Starting with the girls. So - who's going to be the first course? It's hard to choose between you two girls.'

Cordelia shot straight back onto her feet, 'what do you mean it's hard?' she sounded outraged and offended - but then her eyes widened in fear as she realised what a stupid thing she had done, 'I mean, she's the tasty one.' She pointed at Fred. 'Look at her. Half of her is neck.'

Fred shrugged her shoulders, bringing them up higher to conceal her long neck.

In the meantime, Wesley had managed to activate the sword in his concealed weapon. It now stuck out from his sleeve - ready to do battle. He pointed it at Liam. 'Miss, Chase, Miss. Burkle,' he said, '-run.'

Both women turned and fled in opposite directions, whilst Wesley charged towards Liam - his sword pointed at him. He swung the blade - but missed. Liam punched him in the nose and Wesley crumpled to the ground. Liam then sniffed the air and left the lobby, seeking out the women.

...

Behind the counter, Francis breathed hard. All the other men were unconscious now. The women were running through the hotel, with nothing to protect them. And he was pretty sure that Liam - the bloodsucking vampire - would have chased after Cordelia.

Liam was really strong. He had taken out Gunn and Wesley - who were both much, much bigger than Francis - without breaking a sweat. But Gunn and Wesley were human - probably - whereas Francis was a monster, just like Liam. And maybe, maybe Francis had extra powers, just like Liam. It had seemed like the vampire hadn't known how strong or good at fighting he was, when he had first been attacked - those powers had come as a surprise to him. Maybe Francis had some hidden talents, as well. And - superpowered or not - he could hardly just hide here whilst Liam ate Cordelia. He had to help. No matter how much he wished he could stay hidden. And there was that mysterious baby upstairs, that only Francis knew about, he had to protect the baby as well as the women. Cautiously, he scrambled out from behind the desk - passed the unconscious demon and two unconscious men and went in the direction both Liam and Cordelia had taken.

* * *

Cordelia had run away down twisting corridors, heading into the back areas of the hotel - the parts the guests would never see. Hearing footsteps coming up behind her, she yanked open the nearest door and stumbled inside. She found herself in a dark storage room. She squeezed herself into the gap between two stacks of boxes and held her breath. But it wasn't enough. Liam followed her inside.

'You know it baffles me,' he called out to her, 'You liked me so much before and now I can't even get a little kiss... I can see you.' Nocturnal predator - excellent night vision.

She decided to make a dash for it. There was no point in staying trapped between these boxes - up against the wall - just waiting for him to eat her. But maybe she could get past him - she was fast. She was training to be a cheerleader - she hoped to make the team, this year, when they held tryouts next semester. She was in good shape - she stood a better chance if she ran.

But, as she pushed past him, he caught hold of her and yanked her round so he was facing her, gripping her upper arms. She stared up at him - terrified. 'I seem to be strong, too,' he said to her, 'and fast. It's not so bad this vampire thing.'

He was hurting her, where he was gripping her. He was gonna eat her - the jerk - and that would mean she'd never make the squad, never be homecoming queen, never go to prom or graduate, never get her driving license or go to Bora Bora or date a college boy. That made her mad. She glared up at him. 'Yeah, well, I've got a superpower of my own, hotshot.'

'What's that, now?'

She turned her head slightly, opened her mouth and screamed - as high and loud and long as she could. On and on. Liam took a slight step back, but he didn't release his grip on her. 'That really is inhuman - but what good do you think it'll…'

...

Francis, having heard her scream, came barrelling into the room. He flung himself at Liam, rugby tackling him to the ground. That was the move they'd be learning in games, when he decided he'd rather tell the teachers he had chronic diarrhoea than keep doing this every week. But - hey - it worked. Thank you Father O'Malley.

Cordelia staggered a little - but managed to keep her balance, as the two men hit the floor and then rolled over and over - each throwing punches when they were the one on top.

Francis landed on the top, again, and hit Liam. his knuckles were killing him, but he hit him again. Liam, however, having had enough, just flung the smaller man off him. Francis flew backwards through the air and slumped against the wall, just underneath the window that looked down into the industrial kitchens. Liam got to his feet and ran at him. Seeing him coming, Francis scrambled back up, alarmed, and stuck his foot out. Liam tripped over his foot and - going full pelt as he was - crashed head first into the window. The glass smashed - and the momentum of his fall took Liam over the ledge and through the now empty space. He landed heavily on the kitchen floor and just lay on his back, groaning.

Both Francis and Cordelia peered through the broken window, down at the vampire beneath them. Then they looked up at each other. 'Are you OK?' Francis asked her.

'I'm fine,' though she was breathing heavily, 'you were so - brave.'

'Yeah - I'd ask y' to say that without so much shock in y' voice but... kinda surprised myself back there.' He had turned to look back at Liam, but he suddenly became aware that Cordelia was standing much closer to him than she had been the moment before. He glanced up at her - she was looking at him in a completely different way, now. He gulped. 'Are y' sure you're OK?' he asked her, wondering if maybe she'd hit her head - the seductive eyes she was making at him, that was surely a sign of a head injury.

'My heart's pounding a mile a minute,' she said 'but I know I'll feel a lot better once that freak's dead. Can you do it?'

He looked back down at the groaning vampire, and then up at the come hither expression on Cordelia's face. He swallowed. 'I guess I can give it a go.'

'Well,' she had her hand on his shoulder, now, and was rubbing him, gentle - but sensuous, 'you kill him and you're in for a big reward.'

His eyebrows hit the top of his head, 'really?'

'Hoo. Doggy.'


	24. Spin the Bottle: Part Four

_Part Four_

With a last look into Cordelia's admiring eyes, Francis scrambled up onto the window ledge, 'just stay here,' he told here, 'I'll be back …' he counted to three in his head. Then to five. He could feel Cordelia's eyes on him - waiting; expecting something heroic. So, once he got to ten, he scrunched his eyes closed and jumped down to the kitchen, below. He was pleasantly surprised to land on his feet. He was less pleasantly surprised to find that the vampire was missing. Liam must have got up and disappeared somewhere into the shadows. Francis crept through the kitchen, searching for him.

As he rounded the corner of one of the stainless steel units, Liam suddenly stepped out of the darkness and swung his fist at Francis' face. 'I think I'm a bit tired of being bullied,' he complained.

* * *

Fred crept out from the curtain she had been hiding behind. It had all gone quiet - Liam had chased after Cordelia, Francis had chased after Liam. Now it was just her, two unconscious men and one unconscious - but thankfully tied up - demon. She wanted to see if the men were OK, see if she could wake them up. Once Liam was done killing Francis and Cordelia, and Fred had little doubt that he wouldn't manage, he would come back here. She'd feel better if Gunn and Wesley were back on their feet.

She tiptoed across the lobby and knelt down beside Gunn's unconscious form. She didn't notice the demon, still taped to the chair, come round.

'Uh, Fred - sweetie,' Lorne said to her. She jumped - and turned to stare at him. He smiled; hoping he looked warm and reassuring. 'Can I take a minute of your time? We have a huge problem, but I can solve it.'

She looked him up and down, 'why should I trust you?' There were too many monsters in this hotel. She didn't know what the government were playing at - but Levon wasn't gonna believe all this when she told him.

''Cause we're buddies, Freddikins! We did a spell, it went wrong, but we can make it right. Is the bottle still there, on the floor, in the circle?''

Fred craned her head to look at the circle painted on the floor. She hadn't paid too much attention to it before, what with the vampire hunting and all - but it did look kinda mystical. There wasn't a bottle in the middle of it, though, but there were lots of itty bitty shards of ceramic.

'Oh, balls,' Lorne sighed, when she told him. He hung his head, so his chin rested on his chest for a moment. But this still needed fixing. There would have to be a way. He looked up at her again. 'We can still do it. Maybe one at a time. You just gotta untie me first.'

'I don't know…'

'Oh, Fred,' his voice was soft - but slightly disappointed, 'look into your heart. Am I evil?'

* * *

Liam slugged Francis again, and the smaller man went down. But he got back up - he was going to kill this vampire, and then he was going to collect his reward from the beautiful Cordelia. He'd never had a girl look at him like that before. Never met a girl who was remotely interested in getting fleshy with him. One of the pitfalls of going to an all boys' school. And of being short.

The fact that the first girl to ever show an interest in him also happened to be the most beautiful one he had ever seen seemed like good luck beyond imagining. Like Jesus, Mary and the blessed saints themselves had smiled down upon him - if he believed in that stuff; which he didn't, really, if he was honest. But still - he wasn't gonna pass this opportunity up. That vampire was a dead man walking … so to speak.

'Ah - back for more, are you?' Liam asked, 'well, you do seem to have a bit more fire in your belly than the slave and the English pig, after all. Maybe it's the Irish in you. Fighting spirit.'

Francis said nothing, he just moved closer to the vampire - looking for his moment. But it didn't come. Liam could move far quicker than he and - before he had time to react - the vampire was on top of him again - smacking him a vicious blow around the head.

Francis' nose was stinging and he could feel his eyes watering - getting hit by Liam was even worse than a sliotar to the face. He gasped in pain and blinked back the tears - and then straightened up, ready to have another go at killing the vampire. But Liam wasn't fighting back - anymore - instead, he was backing off, staring at Francis in horror and disgust - and a little bit of anger. 'So, what the hell are you, then?' He asked.

'What?' Francis didn't understand. But, as he brought his hand up to his stinging nose, he noticed the colour of his skin. He was green, again. Somehow, that last blow by Liam had brought out the monster in him. 'Oh.'

'Well - you're a fine hypocrite, aren't you, now?' Liam said, sounding incensed. 'Here you are, fighting me - trying to kill me - because I'm a vampire - and you, yourself are no better. No more human.'

'But I'm not tryin' to kill all the humans,' Francis said.

'Neither was I - til they all turned on me, attacked me for being different. Thinking they're so high and mighty. Truth be told - I'm not much one for the fighting. I'd rather be satisfying my sinful urges with the Chase girl.'

Francis felt the flicker of annoyance stir inside of him, 'you leave her alone!'

'Aye - I heard her promise herself to you, if you kill me. Vampire hearing is fierce grand, so it is. But I can't help but wonder, boyo, will she still be offering herself to you when she gets to seeing that new face of yours?'

Reluctantly, Francis brought his hand up to his face and felt the prickles that marred his skin - spreading across it like a disease. No. Cordelia would not want him - would not touch him - if she saw what he really was. And Liam seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking. 'You think she's gonna look into those red eyes,' he was grinning, 'look at that face - and give you a kiss?' He was moving towards Francis, now, slowly - like a shark, 'she'll scream, so she will. That inhuman, banshee caterwauling of hers. And the slave and the English pig will come running - they must be awake by now. And they'll want to kill you - just as much as they want to kill me.'

'I'm not a vampire.'

'Doesn't matter to the likes of them. If it doesn't look right - they kill it, isn't that what the slave said?'

'I'll explain …'

'Like I tried to? Face it, boyo, we're neither one of us good enough for them. You know what you are - same as me - you've heard it said: at mass, in the sermons - by the priests. You've heard the warnings, too. You're a demon of hell, like me.'

Francis shook his head, 'no…' he protested.

'Sure you are, then. You're a creature of sin, corrupted by the devil. Your soul is bound to suffer for eternity with Satan himself, because you're not pure in God's sight. You know it and I know it. It's what they'd say back home…'

'You're not really Irish. We don't share a home.'

'But I am Irish, from Galway…'

Francis closed his eyes for a moment, remembering Wesley's words, 'the most evil vampire, according to legend,' he muttered to himself.

'Imagine my surprise to discover myself a legend. I have no memory of it. But then maybe you're a creature of legend, too. Perhaps we're both here in this strange place because we were cast out from our homes. And then this council, the English pig speaks of, captures us and puts us here to test the humans. It's kill or be killed Francis. You and me against them. Demons of hell against God's soldiers.'

Francis had backed away so far, now, that he bumped into the wall - but Liam still kept coming. 'What do you say?'

* * *

Fred stood in the middle of the lobby with her eyes screwed shut and her tongue sticking out. In front of her, Lorne, finally released from his duct-tape prison, was mixing up a potion. Down on the ground, his head pounding like it had jackhammers in it, Gunn woke up - and groaned as he realised he was still stuck in this place - with these people.

'Hurry up - I'm nervous,' Fred said - though not very clearly, her tongue was still out. Her eyes were still closed.

'OK, OK,' Lorne had the potion held in the largest fragment of the broken bottle he could find. He dipped his finger into the mixture and placed a drop of it on Fred's tongue. She scrunched her face up at the bitter taste - and then opened her eyes. 'Did it work?' He asked her.

'Oh God…' the memory of the past 24 hours hit Fred like a ton of bricks - and behind that was all the older memories: moving to L.A; the portal; Pylea; the handsome man rescuing her from the monsters - and going to the ballet with …

Gunn snuck up behind the freed demon - he didn't know how he had got loose - but it had its back turned to him, so he could do some damage. He raised his weapon over his head, ready to smash it down on the demon's head. Fred's eyes widened, as she saw him. She flung an arm out towards him, 'wait!'

* * *

Francis felt the wall against his back. He began to shake is head, 'I'm not gonna help you hurt anyone,' he said, 'and I won't let you hurt Cordelia.'

'If she means that much to you, you can have her first - then we kill the rest of them.'

'I'm not gonna hurt Cordelia!' Francis was disgusted. Liam shook his head, 'you don't understand - you're a monster, like me, it's what we were born to do.'

But Francis refused to listen, 'no!' he said, 'I might be a monster - but I don't feel like one. I feel human. It's how I was raised. I know right from wrong and I'm choosing to act like a human being … even if I can't be one. I'm not gonna help you kill the others.'

'Pity,' Liam shook his head, regretfully - and then his face lit up with a wicked grin, 'but I guess I'll just start my massacre with you, then.' He grabbed Francis and hauled him away from the wall; sending him crashing, head first, into the stainless steel counter. Francis slumped to the ground and Liam bounded over to drag him back to his feet.

'Hold it!' Fred's voice cried out, she was sticking her head through the broken window, up above, staring down at the two grappling men. They both froze - mid struggle - and stared up at her.

'Nobody..'

Liam decided to ignore her and turned back to the little runt squirming in is arms. '...kill anybody-' Fred said, just as Liam snapped Francis' neck. 'Please?' Fred finished, frowning down at where the little green man lay on the floor, his neck at a funny angle. 'Oh, boy,' she sighed.

_**...**_

_So - all's well that ends well, right kiddies?_

**_..._**

Fred and Gunn, both with their memory restored, got to cleaning up the paraphernalia of the spell. They would have to scrub the floor to get rid of the symbol, but that would be tomorrow's job. They were quiet, as they did it.

Wesley, the sins of his past now weighing down on him again, walked through the lobby - headed for the door. Before he left - he cast a glance back at Fred. She looked at him, their eyes holding each others for a lengthy moment - and then Wesley turned to leave - and Fred got back to cleaning. Gunn saw - but said nothing.

Once Angel's memory was also restored he had rushed upstairs to check on Connor. But the baby was still fast asleep - having missed all the merriment of the evening. He had come back down, now, to watch Cordelia be restored; hoping against hope that, once this was done - she would be herself, once more - just like the others were. This had all been for her - though that seemed like a lifetime ago, after an evening spent as Liam.

Lorne placed the drop of potion onto Cordelia's tongue. She scrunched her face up at the bitter taste - and then opened her eyes, staring round at everybody in surprise. Angel took a step forward, peering into her eyes, looking for any sign of recognition - any sign of Cordy. 'Did it work?' he asked, 'do you remember?'

She smiled at him, sadly, briefly. 'It worked,' she said, 'I need … I just wanna …' she walked away from him, through the glass doors and out into the courtyard. He watched her go - but did not follow her right away.

_**...**_

_But since nothing ended all that well, I guess I gotta say that, well - nothing was well. See, none of us knew it then, but what happened next didn't go down quite the way we observed it. Something happened that … well, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth just to think about it._

**_..._**

Francis woke up. He groaned. Everything hurt and he seemed to be lying on a really hard surface. Then his memory went into fast forward: the fight; Cordelia's promise; being exposed as a demon; getting his neck broken and then … darkness. Instinctively, he lifted his arms to his neck - though how he could move at all was a mystery - and snapped his neck back into place. He felt instantly better. He shook his head - and the demon melted from his features. So that must be one superpower he had … it wasn't as good as super strength, like Liam had got, but … without it he would be dead, so he wasn't complaining.

When he sat up and looked around, he found Fred standing beside him, waiting. She didn't seem at all surprised, either by his demon face or the fact that he had just fixed a broken neck. The way she was looking at him wasn't very friendly, though. 'Come on, Doyle,' she said, 'Lorne has the fix for all this.'

He didn't know why she was calling him by his last name, either, but he didn't ask questions. He just got his feet and meekly followed her up to the lobby. The green demon was stood in the middle of the room - untied - and he smiled broadly when he saw Francis. 'Here's the last one, come on dreamboat, let's get you cured - stick your tongue out.'

Francis glanced around at everyone else. Wesley and Cordelia were missing. Liam was stood right there - arms folded - and no one seemed bothered by that at all, no one was trying to kill him. Fred and Gunn both seemed to be in a very bad mood - and they were cleaning up. He was puzzled - completely lost at how changed everyone seemed.

'It'll all make sense, in a moment, crumb cake,' the green demon was still smiling at him, 'come on, now - open wide.' Francis stuck out his tongue and closed his eyes.

The potion hit his tongue - acrid and bitter - and then the taste seemed to spread. And as the taste spread - it was like a fog being lifted, very slowly. Doyle opened his eyes and, if anyone had been paying close attention, they would have noticed a sudden flash of understanding. Complete comprehension dawned on him - like a beast awakening from a slumber - and suddenly everything became very clear. Doyle began to smile. Then - looking around at the sullen and silent group in the lobby - he took his leave of them, walking out of the front door and heading back to the motel.

_**...**_

_Well - it's been a long night. And whilst the story is far from over - this as much of it as I have to tell. The spell did what it was supposed to - it brought back those who were lost - raised to consciousness those that were sleeping. Meant that everybody could now move on from the holding pattern they'd been stuck in. Did that make them happy? Well - the spell never promised happiness - it promised truth. So, can our heroes now be true to themselves? Maybe._

**_..._**

* * *

Cordelia sat on the edge of the fountain, staring up at the moon. She was Cordelia Chase. She was herself again … so why was her heart so heavy? She heard the door open behind her and turned to see who it was - she thought she could possibly guess - and turned to smile in welcome. 'Oh…' her smile faltered - as she saw Angel come through the door and walk through the yard to sit by her.

'Are you OK?' He asked her, his brow low with concern.

'Yeah … yes,' she fixed on her brightest smile. 'I'm fine. It's just … weird - you know? One minute you have no idea _who_ you are. Then you're a 16 year old with no idea _where_ you are .. and then you're you again - with all this knowledge and history and pain and it just … bam! - hits you, like a ton of bricks. I guess, when I wanted my memory back, I never figured just how much there was to remember.'

'And … is everything OK - with us? I mean… you didn't … didn't look that happy to see me, just now.'

'What? Angel - no!' she took his hand and smiled at him, making her face soft and entreating. 'I'm so happy to be back with you. You and me. Back. It's just … after everything these past couple of days - I kinda expected you to be Doyle. I was surprised to see you, is all.'

'Oh.' Angel looked put out, 'I think Doyle left.'

Cordelia's smile slid off her face, 'without checking I was OK?'

'What does it matter?' Angel asked her, 'you must remember, now - what he did - why you broke up.'

'I do,' she nodded, 'I do - I remember it all. But I also remember him claiming he still cared about me. I guess...'

'Maybe he can't face you now you remember?'

'Maybe.'

Angel shuffled awkwardly on the bench, beside her. He looked down at where their hands were still joined, 'look - Cordy, can we forget about him? Can we just … I mean, if it isn't too soon. I'd like to know the answer.'

'The answer?'

'To the question.'

'What question?'

'Are we … you know … in love?'

'Oh,' she breathed softly. She disentangled her hand from his and folded both hands in her lap, keeping her eyes cast down on her interconnected fingers. Angel looked worried. 'We are,' she said after a long time. Angel felt himself relax. But she wasn't finished. 'But -'

'Does there have to be a but? Can't we just leave it there?'

She smiled sadly and looked back up at him, biting her lip, 'no - this needs to be said. I love you Angel. I want to be close to you…'

'That's what I want too - with you, I mean,' he interrupted quickly.

She reached out and cupped his face with her hand and stared into his eyes. '_But _\- I just wonder if… me losing my memory, right when things were just getting started for us - wasn't a warning?'

'A warning?'

She nodded her head and stroked his cheek, tenderly. 'Telling us to slow down - steady on - not _stop_,' she added hastily, 'I'm not saying we shouldn't … pursue this, but… We had the talk and two minutes later we were getting all hot and sweaty on the couch, like a pair of ballerina spirit possessed lovers without any brakes applied. Maybe losing my memory was The Powers applying the brakes.'

'Why would they do that?'

'I don't know - this big evil brewing? Your curse? Maybe now isn't the time for two champions to dive headlong into heady, selfish happiness.'

'So…' his brow was still lowered, as he tried to work things out. 'What are you saying?'

'Just that - we take things slowly. You and me. No groping. No getting naked. Light kissing and some proper dates.'

'Dates?'

'I know Mr. Penny Pincher - you're going to have to spend some money.' She leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly with her own, 'but it will be worth it - if it means we can build something real.'

_**...**_

_Maybe not._

**_..._**

* * *

Doyle arrived home, at the motel, and began to climb the external staircase. His side was still twinging where Fred had shot him, but now the rest of him was throbbing and aching too - from where Angel had beaten him and broken his neck. He clung to the railing and stumbled his way up the stairs.

When he got to the second storey balcony, he found Kalimania at the ice machine, filling up her bucket. She looked surprised to see him - but pleased. 'Hey,' she greeted him, 'I thought you'd gone to bed ages ago - to sleep off your wounds.'

He nodded, 'yeah - I did. Sadly, the work o' a hero is never done. I was called back out. I now got several more injuries to add to the pile.' He winced. 'I'm black and blue all over,' he told her.

She looked him up and down - and there was no mistaking the hungry, appreciative look in her eyes. 'Well - if you're hurt that badly you could always come into mine,' she suggested. 'I could make you a drink … put some ice on your sore spots.' She fluttered her eyelashes seductively and smiled.

Doyle looked at her for a long moment - and then he smiled back. 'You know what? I'd really like that.'

She looked slightly surprised that he had finally accepted her come ons, but pleased nevertheless. 'Yeah?' she checked.

'Yeah,' he nodded, 'make me feel better?'

She took hold of his hand, her smile was slightly shy now, and led him back to her room. He followed her inside and the door swung shut behind them.

_**...**_

_So I'm just gonna leave this story, here. Always leave 'em wanting more - that's the rule. And anyway, I've got no more tale to tell. Applause Applause. I've got a SeaBreeze that's gonna up and leave with someone else if I don't get to her soon. So you kids be good and go home. Hug your families while you can. And stay away from the magic. Trust me._

**_..._**

* * *

**A/N Next episode is 'Apocalypse Nowish'**


	25. Apocalypse Nowish: Part One

**Apocalypse Nowish**

_Part One_

'No.'

'Why?'

'No.'

'Why?'

'I said no!' Angel told Cordelia, his tone conveying that he was brooking no argument on this. But he was talking to Cordelia - who could pick a fight in an empty room - this was an argument she wanted to have, and she wasn't backing down. 'And I said 'why?'. Angel - I'm not giving up on this unless you give me an explanation. So - why are you saying 'no'?'

She had chased him all the way down the stairs, having this argument, and - now he had reached the lobby - he had no place left to run; unless he went into his office and slammed the door in her face, shutting her out. But he probably shouldn't do that. She was sort of - not quite - his girlfriend, now. He couldn't do the moody, broody, taciturn act with her anymore, she wouldn't stand for it.

'I just don't think now is the right time to…'

Cordelia cut him off by blowing a raspberry. His argument was silly and she wasn't going to waste time listening to it. 'Now is the exact right time! Angel - I get that, during my whole amnesiac trauma drama, you had bigger - more personal - things to concentrate on. But I'm fixed now. I'm me again. And we need to sort this. Evil is coming our way, buster; big, stinky evil and if we don't nip it in the bud …'

'The world will end - I know,' he sounded sullen.

'Right! And that would be bad! We don't know anything about this big bad that's coming, except that it's somehow linked to the demon chick that Doyle found. So - if we wanna deal with this evil - then we need to deal with her. We need her here - where we can keep her safe. Keep an eye on her - make sure she isn't doing anything - you know - _evil!_'

'Doyle's keeping her safe.'

Cordelia blew another raspberry. Angel looked annoyed., 'oh come on!' she said, 'you can't think for a moment that Doyle - the teeny tiniest man who ever lived - can do a better job of protecting her than _you_. A champion.'

'There's Wesley and the Groosalug as well.'

'Yeah - but - you're the real deal, Angel. The champion to the Powers. If they want this girl protecting, then it's you they want to protect her. Otherwise it wouldn't have been Doyle - your PTB appointed messenger service - who found her. We need to know as much as we can. We need to keep her close, if we have any hope of defeating this thing.'

'It's just …' he shrugged his shoulder, 'if Kalimania comes to stay here, then you know she's going to bring Doyle with her.'

'So?'

'I'm just …' he wasn't making eye contact now. He gazed up and around the lobby, looking anywhere but her, his fingers traced the surface of the front desk and he kept his voice casual, 'I'm surprised you'd be happy to have him around is all … it's not that long ago you couldn't stand to be in the same room as him.'

'It's not that long ago that I couldn't remember my own name. Times change.'

'So you're OK with him being around, now?' He still wasn't looking at her. His voice was still overly casual - but she didn't notice, she was thinking about his question. It was her turn to shrug. 'I dunno - when I didn't remember anything, he was a huge comfort to me. But at the same time … he refused to take advantage. That meant …' she suddenly trailed off and narrowed her eyes at the shifty vampire stood in front of her. 'Hang on a minute - are you jealous?'

'What?' he forced out a chuckle of derision, '_no.'_

'You are! You don't want Kalimania here because you're jealous of Doyle! Angel!' She looked disbelieving, 'Doyle is of the past.' Definitely of the past. 'I'm moving on now -' absolutely, she was one hundred percent moving on, 'to you. But that doesn't mean he ceases to exist. And if we need him, we need him. That doesn't change how I feel about … you know … us.'

Angel relaxed a little. He actually looked back at her, 'really?'

'Really. Doofus.'

He smiled, 'well - maybe we can see about reaching out to them - later, when things are less, you know … hectic.'

Cordelia glanced around the empty lobby, 'hectic?'

Just then Fred and Gunn came in and headed straight for the weapons cabinet. Angel made an 'I told you so' expression at Cordelia and then scurried over to their side, 'is there a case? Is it bad? Do you need help?'

'Nah,' Gunn told him, 'woman out in Hancock Park's hearing spookies in her pipes. I don't know whether to bring my axe or a plunger.'

'See?' Angel said to Cordelia.

'It's a haunted toilet,' she sounded unimpressed.

'Exactly - exciting and new - but clearly not the end of the world. We'll reach out to them later. End of discussion.'

Cordelia opened her mouth to argue.

'End of discussion,' he repeated and headed to his office.

* * *

'Yeah - uhuh - well, to be honest with y' it's not my usual but … uhuh … how many? Came shootin' out the airing cupboard? And down the chimney? Huh … OK OK - I'll be right along, what's the address?' Doyle grabbed a paper and pen and scribbled his new client's address down. He hung up his phone and looked at Groo and Kali. 'we got a case,' he told them.

'Do you require the blade of the Groosalug?' Groo asked him. But Doyle shook his head - it wasn't some big scary monster he'd been called in to fight, it was a swarm of insects. And a sword wasn't going to be a whole lot of use against them. He'd call Wesley and they'd go take a look - see what they could do. 'I want you to stay here with Kali, protect her.'

'From what?' Kali asked, 'a swarm of insects half way across town? _That's dire._' She fluttered her eyelashes at the half demon, 'I could come with you.'

'No,' he said shortly, 'this is the third call in two days that have been - swarm related. This is … ten plagues of Egypt kinda stuff. I think this might be the beginning.'

'The beginning?' Groo looked puzzled.

'Of the end,' Doyle nodded, 'and I want Kali far away from it. Understood?' He wriggled into his jacket, grabbed the bug spray from the motel bathroom and headed out of the door; casting a backward glance at the demon woman, whose destiny was at the centre of all this, as he left.

* * *

Lorne sat at the front desk - he was on phone duty. Ever since Fred and Gunn had run off to deal with their haunted toilet, the phone had been ringing off the hook. Cordelia had left to go and investigate someone's fish tank, where the water had inexplicably turned to blood and all the fish had died. She had since rung back in to tell them that hundreds upon hundreds of toads had suddenly swarmed out of the Hollywood reservoir and were hopping around the streets. She was trying to find somebody official to talk to - ask what their explanation was … but the whole place was teeming with onlookers.

Angel - however - was sat in the middle of the lobby playing with Connor, completely oblivious to the various swarms, plagues and infestations that were cropping up all over the city. Lorne frowned; it was OK for some. He listened to what the man on the other end of the phone was telling him. 'Snakes? Uhuh - and they came out of your what? OK OK - well, did they get up there themselves or is part of a - you know - a _thing_,' he laughed nervously and listened to the angry voice of the man at the other end of the line. 'No. I'm not judging.'

He held the phone to is chest, for a moment, and spoke to Angel, 'do we fight snakes?'

'Only if they're giant,' Angel replied, absentmindedly. He and Connor were busy building a tower out of duplo - it took a lot of concentration. 'Or demons,' he glanced over his shoulder, 'or giant demons.' The thought excited him and he twisted himself around to look at Lorne - knocking the tower over in the process, 'are they giant demon snakes?'

'Well, unless this guy is 30 feet tall I think they're of the garden variety.'

'Oh,' Angel was disappointed and he turned back to start rebuilding the tower. But then another thought hit him and he jumped to his feet. 'They might still be demonic. Are they making any kind of weird demony sounds?' Lorne just stared at him.

* * *

Fred and Gunn listened patiently, as their client explained what was going on. There were just horrible - terrible - thumping and groaning noises coming from the pipes. It made it impossible to sleep and had been going on for about a week now.

But Fred assured her that was good news. 'The longer a spectre inhabits an area, the harder it is to convince them to leave.'

Gunn hefted his axe, 'yeah, Casper's playing with the big boys now. We can be very persuasive.'

The woman nodded thankfully - just, anything they could do about that awful awful room and she would be grateful. She turned and hurried away to the kitchen - and Fred and Gunn advanced on the bathroom door. 'You ready?' Gunn asked, reaching out for the handle.

'Is 'no' an acceptable answer?'

'In this job - always.' He pushed the door open and they stepped inside. The room was quiet and still - and massive. Luxurious, too - with a whirlpool tub and marble counter tops. It really didn't match their clients description as a bathroom of horrors. Gunn whistled appreciatively. 'Man look at this place!'

Fred stared around at it, 'a family of four could live in here!'

'With room for Uncle Laurel! Man! Marble counter tops, whirlpool tubs, bidet…' he smiled across at his girlfriend, 'it's the kind of place I imagine us moving into one day.'

Fred crinkled up her nose, 'following that lottery win we expect at any moment?'

'Well - OK - maybe it might take a bit of time but… a man can dream. '

'I guess…' she heard a groaning sound coming from inside the walls and whipped her head around to look for the source of the disturbance. 'That's not the bidet,' she said.

'Where's it coming from?' Gunn was staring, his head turning in every direction - but every time he looked one place he heard a noise start up elsewhere.

'Everywhere! Maybe we should have brought a priest.'

Gunn went over to the sink and tilted his head, listening to the plughole, 'or some consecrated Drano… I think it stopped...'

The mirrored cabinet right beside his head suddenly burst open - revealing rats teeming inside. They fell out of the cabinet and down onto the floor. Gunn jumped back in alarm. But there were more - coming up through the drains; the sinks, the tub, the drain in the floor. The whole floor was alive with them as they swarmed over each other - wriggling and running, their fur all matted and greasy.

'These aren't ghosts,' Fred cried, staring at down at them in disgust - backing up and trying desperately to stop them from touching her, 'these definitely aren't ghosts.'

'They're gonna be,' Gunn raised his axe ready to start smushing the vermin but - just above his head - the bowl lampshade suddenly fell to the floor and a rat dropped from the light fitting and down Gunn's neck. He screamed. 'Get it off me! Get it off me!'

Fred ran for the door but she couldn't get it open. Gunn fought his way through the teeming rats to her side, and shoulder barged the bathroom door open. They both fell out, screaming, into the quiet of the landing. Fred slammed the door shut. Gunn was ragging his jacket off- trying to get rid of that last rat. 'Get it off me!'

'You're OK, you're OK,' Fred checked him over - and, rat free, they both hotfooted it down the hallway. Their client was stood by the stairs - looking alarmed at their screams. 'You may wanna call an exterminator,' Fred told her as they passed, not even slowing down to talk.

'Or just burn the place to the ground,' Gunn suggested.

'Either way…'

* * *

Wesley walked into his apartment and came to a stop. Lilah was sat on his desk, just under his window. 'Hard day at the office?' she asked him.

'I've had worse.'

'What happened?'

'Bugs.'

'Giant?'

'Swarm. Why are you dressed like that?'

Lilah was wearing a little skirt, a white oxford shirt and a blue cardigan. She sat on the desk, swinging her feet like a schoolgirl. She had on a pair of glasses and her hair was tied in two pigtails, with ribbons at the end. 'Isn't this what you like?' She spoke in a soft southern drawl, and ducked her head low - looking up at him, all coy and flirtatious. 'Big brain and a tight little…'

Wesley rolled his eyes, 'Lilah -'

'Oh forget about that evil witch,' she said - still in her Texan accent, 'let's talk about me. I'm good and I'm pure and science turns me on and one day …' she put her hands together as if in prayer, 'if I pray hard enough and eat all my vegetables, I just might have hips.'

Wesley had begun to smile, a slight laugh at her impression. 'Are you finished?' She got off the desk and walked towards him - her voice hard and normal now. 'Did it turn you on? Watching her up there in front of all those brainiacs and knowing she was the smartest one in the room?'

'Her theories deserve attention.'

'Just her theories?' she stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. 'I saw the way you looked at her,' then she smirked as she saw his slightly guilty reaction. 'Oh, come on. Do you think I care about your little crush? Moon all you want over the Texas twig - 'cause I know whose bed you'll be crawling into at the end of the day.' She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, 'or the middle of it.'

'You think you know me?'

'Better than she ever will.'

He drew her over to the couch, pushed her short skirt up and then sat down, pulling her into his lap so she was facing him. Slowly, she unbuttoned her shirt to reveal the red lacy bra beneath. Then she took the glasses off.

'Leave them on!' Wesley commanded - his voice was harsh. She looked hurt - annoyed - for a moment. But she did as he asked, wearing the glasses for him, as he made love to her.

* * *

Fred and Gunn arrived back at the courtyard, headed for the lobby. They were still grossed out by their encounter with the rats - their skin twitching and crawling at the memory of the greasy-furred vermin swarming all over them. Fred was planning a long, hot bath - to try and soak out the feeling of the rats on her flesh.

But it was not to be. As they entered into the lobby, they found the rest of the gang in there - whilst the phones rang off the hook. 'Hi,' Angel said to them as they came in, 'how did it go?'

The young couple glanced at each other. 'Bad,' they said, in unison.

'Well - it's good you're here. The phones are going crazy.'

'No no - that certainly doesn't sound normal for a boy his age,' Lorne was saying into the phone. 'Look - we'll send someone out just as soon as we can, just - uhm - don't poke it.' He hung up - just as the other phone line rang. Cordelia grabbed it, 'Angel Investigations how can we … uhuh - yeah - what is the nature of your manifestation?'

Gunn pulled the phone log over to have a look and raised an eyebrow, 'this has all gone down whilst we've been out?' He looked at all the phone calls they'd taken - all the cases seemed to be similar to the disaster zone with the rats he and Fred had just faced.

'And this is only half of it,' Lorne told him, 'from what some of our clients have said - some of them have rung elsewhere before they ring here - but they've been too overloaded to help.'

'Elsewhere?'

'Wes and Doyle,' Angel clarified, 'we reckon they must be dealing with a similar number of cases all over the city. Whatever's happening …'

'Yep,' Cordelia hung up the phone - and glared at it, as it immediately began to ring again. 'It's the end all right. Blood, frogs, bugs; I'm expected the death of the first born any minute. Talk about a bad time to try and build something new.' She picked up the phone '_yes_?'

'What's she on about?' Gunn asked, 'what's she building?'

Angel suddenly became very interested in Connor's duplo tower. It was Lorne that answered. He cleared his throat and then lowered his voice to a whisper. 'Cordy and the stud muffin are supposed to be going on a first date - but she can't make reservations because the phone keeps ringing off the hook. It's starting to look like their little romance is doomed before it's even got off the ground - hence the cranky.'

Fred looked between Cordelia and Angel - and then at the phone which had started ringing again. 'Maybe now isn't the best time to be thinking about dating?' she said.

'But the if the end is nigh - Freddikins - what other chance do they have?'

* * *

Doyle arrived back at the motel. He had been stung, burned and bitten by the swarms of insects that he'd tried to exterminate. He was weary and he wanted a drink. Groo and Kali were waiting for him, expectantly. 'So?' Kali asked as he limped through the door.

'It's bad out there,' he told her. He sank down on the bed and poured himself a drink. 'And it's all over town.'

'So … this is it - the bad thing we've been waiting for?'

'It's a start.' He pulled himself up again and went over to the window - staring out. 'The people out there - they don't know what they're up against. What's comin' - and what it's capable of. They're in danger.'

'What is coming?' Kali sounded frightened. He turned to look at her. 'Death,' he said, simply.

'You had a vision, Noble Majesty?'

'I don't need the visions … to see what's in front of me. We need to be out there. Making sure everything turns out…' he shook his head, 'the way it's supposed to, I guess.'

'We must protect the people,' the Groosalug said.

'You can try.'

'Will it be enough?'

But Doyle didn't answer him - he just continued to stare out of the window. He drained the last of his drink. 'Well - you're a champion Groo and this is the end. You should go out fightin' - helpin' people. Get the endin' a champion like you deserves. We should go on patrol. But - hell is breaking out all over - it isn't safe for Kali to stay here all alone,' he turned to look at her, 'you'll have to come with us, Princess.'


	26. Apocalypse Nowish: Part Two

_Part Two_

'I'm sorry - I know, but we're pretty swamped right now,' Gunn frowned, as he heard the woman on the end of the phone start talking again - her tone slightly hysterical. 'Look,' he interrupted, 'if Snowball hasn't tried to eat your spine yet, hit her with the catnip until we get there.' He hung up.

Lorne was busy on the other line, 'no, I - I don't think that much mucus is ever a good sign. Uhuh. Oh please, please - again - describe it in detail.' He held the receiver to his chest, in order to avoid hearing the graphic description one more time, and looked across at the others. 'It's getting wild out there!' he said.

'We have more cases than we can handle,' Cordelia agreed - looking through their logbook, 'and - I'm starting to think bothering to go out and investigate them is gonna be pretty fruitless.'

'It's our job, Cordy,' Angel said to her - looking surprised that she would ignore their mission - and the amount of money there was to be made. But she shook her head and stood her ground. 'All these calls are symptoms - not the disease. Our job is to protect people. But not from rains of toads and rats in the bathroom. From the big stuff. We don't have to check out every weird occurrence just to confirm that the end is pretty seriously nigh. We need to be battening down the hatches and preparing for the real deal. The main course…'

'Is this about us not going out to dinner?' Angel mumbled. But she ignored him. 'This is the apocalypse. And we need to fight it. We can chart these harbingers - if they can give us information - but we can't be spending resources on them. We can't allow ourselves to be distracted by the side show.'

'I kinda think Cordelia might be right,' Fred agreed, from down on the floor where she was on Connor duty. 'We recognise the signs - we know the end is coming. We gotta focus on what really matters.'

'I'm all for that,' Lorne said, slamming the phone down on his mucus plagued client. Angel looked between them all, 'then what do you suggest? We don't know what it is we're meant to be fighting.'

'Then we hit serious research mode,' Cordelia said. 'We need to look up any and all instances of these signs happening before - where they happened and what came next. This is no one's first rodeo. Apocalypses are averted all the time - there has to be some info out there.'

'But what if this is something new?' Angel asked her. She thought about his words, her brow crinkling and her lower lip jutting out. She nodded her head, slowly. 'Or something old,' she suggested, 'so old it predates the written word. It could happen. But there's only so many ways under the sun you can end the world. Even if there isn't an exact match out there - there still has to be parallels. We need to find them.' She headed to her computer and connected to the internet. 'Plus we have to assume there is a pattern to the things going on in the here and now. We need to track it.' She glanced across at Gunn and Lorne, who were stood by the counter manning the phones. 'Gunn - I want you to carry on taking the phone calls, make a list of all the phenomenon and where it's happening. See if we can't get a locus for the uber evil. Lorne - can you take over with Connor? I want Fred to hit the books. We're as likely to find what we're looking for in them as we are on the internet.'

Everybody nodded and headed to complete their assigned tasks. Angel stood in the middle of the lobby, his hands on his hips, looking put out. 'Hang on!' he said to them all. They all stopped and turned to face him. 'I'm the one that's supposed to be in charge around here - I give the orders.'

Cordelia frowned, 'sorry,' she said, 'I guess I got used to running things whilst you were down at the bottom of the deep blue sea. Did I miss anything?'

'Uh - yeah!' he said, forcing a chuckle of disbelief.

'what?'

'Ummm…' he thought for a moment, frowning hard, as he tried to come up with a way to retake his position as leader. 'Hah!' he pointed a finger at them all, 'we're only getting half the story, here,' he said. 'Doyle and Wesley are getting just as many phone calls as we are. If Gunn's gonna track the pattern of the calls, then we need to know about _all_ calls that have been made - not just the ones we received.'

Cordelia shrugged and turned back to her computer, 'so ring Doyle and Wesley and tell them to get down here.'

Angel looked even more put out and - grumbling - made his way over to the phones. He'd ring Wesley first. Wesley was the boss of their little outfit - he'd know the full scoop. There was no need to bring Doyle into this, if they didn't have to.

...

For a short while, quiet reigned over the lobby of the Hyperion. Angel made his phone call to Wes; Gunn answered the phones and gleaned as much information as he could, as quickly as possible; Lorne kept Connor occupied with his wooden train set and Fred and Cordelia kept their heads down, doing solid research into the portents for the end of the world. But then - they were interrupted by a soft thumping sound, as something small hit the glass of the door.

They all turned to look and Gunn - seizing the opportunity to get away from the barrage of phone calls - went to investigate. 'It's a sparrow,' he told the others, seeing the body of the tiny bird lying on the ground, just outside the door. The others got to their feet, to come and look, whilst Gunn opened the door - reaching out to pick up the bird, 'it just slammed right into the glass.'

There was a noise - like the sound of the beating of hundreds of tiny wings. But Gunn didn't notice. 'Close the door,' Lorne commanded, his voice tight and sharp. Gunn was still thinking about the bird, 'it might not be dead.'

'Close it!' Lorne yelled. And Gunn glanced up just in time to see a swarm of sparrows headed straight for the open door. He jumped to his feet and slammed the door shut, just as the flock hit. They came from all directions, hurling themselves against the doors and windows; some hitting so hard that they exploded on contact.

Blood splattered across the glass. Cordelia jumped - as yet another sparrow burst against the door - and Angel wrapped his arms around her, comfortingly. The small thuds and bumps continued - it was like a rain of feathery hailstones hitting the building - until eventually all went still, once again.

'I'm guessing this isn't a good sign,' Gunn said, breaking the shocked quiet of the lobby.

'As harbingers go - not so much,' Lorne agreed.

'It does seem to be ushering in the end times,' Fred crossed to the glass doors and stared out at the scattered bodies of the sparrows. She turned to look back at the others, a frown on her face, 'I think this could be the real deal - the big one.'

'Yep - the bringers of evil are out in force - letting the good guys know it's game over,' Cordelia nodded, still huddled in Angel's arms. But the vampire shook his head, 'we're not just giving up - you know how many times I've faced the end of the world in my life time?'

'Six?'

'Five -' he admitted, 'and two of those times I was the one … you know … ending the world.' He shook his head, as if to clear it, 'but the point is, you don't just roll over and let the apocalypse come to you.'

'So - what are you gonna do?' Cordelia looked up at him.

'I'm gonna attempt a shortcut with your research - pay a visit to some old friends and see what they know.'

* * *

Lilah had divested herself of her Fred costume, in order to return to work, and, herself once more, was trying to keep on top of the ever worsening situation. She was not having much luck. 'A 300% increase?' she spoke, incredulously into her phone - listening to the report on the ongoing plagues. She marched along the corridor at a furious rate, headed for her office - hoping she could get a hold of the situation … otherwise she would answer to the Senior Partners. 'In the last hour?' It was worse than she feared. 'Uhuh. Oh - you think? Well, don't. Just shut up. Get me an incident report cross-referenced by region, socio-economic backgrounds, and species. Oh, and get Gavin up here. Somebody's trying to muscle in on our apocalypse and that is not gonna happen while—'

She opened her office door, came to a stop and cut herself off from talking. Angel was sat on her desk. 'Close the door,' he said to her. She hung up her phone and did as he told her. 'How did you get in here? Vampire detectors my ass. Well, here we are - all nice and cosy. What is that you wanna talk about? Rats? Locusts? Rivers of blood?'

'So it hasn't escaped your attention that the we've entered the end times.'

'Hmmm - not the sort of thing that passes us by,' she gave him a sarcastic smile, 'but you know what … I'm having a bit of a day, so let's say we skip our usual two step - you threaten me, I threaten you yada yada - and we jump directly to the part where I throw you out on your thick, meaty head because you know what? You're not getting anything out of me this time, either.'

'Didn't think I would,' Angel shrugged - sounding bored, 'but Gavin? He was more accommodating.'

Lilah turned to look in the direction the vampire nodded - and rolled her eyes, when she saw Gavin tied up the couch. He had some head lumps and his eyes were closed, but he appeared to be all in one piece. Lilah bit back a smirk and turned back to Angel, 'Couldn't you have at least tortured him just a little bit more?'

'Really wanted to - but he wouldn't stop talking long enough for me to get into it.'

'So - what did he tell you?'

'That's the thing - not much at all. I came here hoping you guys were behind this. You are so very easy to defeat. And I _really_ enjoy defeating you. But … this isn't you, is it? At least that's what sir chatterbox claims - and I really think he had good reason to be telling the truth.' He idly played with the mail spike on Lilah's desk, as he spoke, intimating the things he would he have done to Gavin if he believed the attorney was lying to him.

'So you know … this - whatever it is,' she shrugged her shoulders, 'it isn't us. Can't help you. But thanks for stopping by.'

'This is Wolfram and Hart, Lilah. The Senior Partners have their tentacles in a lot of interdimensional pies. And let's not forget the psychics. Just because you aren't behind this doesn't mean you don't know what's going on.'

'And what about the Powers of all that is good and light and pure?' she sneered, 'aren't they helping? Don't they know? Don't you have your very own hotline direct to their plane of existence? Ask the half breed … he's gotta be good for something.'

A look of irritation flashed across Angel's face, but he got his expression under control and went back to his air of cool detachment, 'this isn't about Doyle, Lilah, I'm asking you.'

But Lilah had seen - of course she had - and her shark's smile grew broad. 'You're not bringing him in on this,' she surmised. 'What? You're afraid he'll steal back the fair Cordelia? Don't you think there are bigger problems to be dealing with right now?'

'Like - the apocalypse? Yeah. And if Doyle knew anything about it, he'd be telling me - whether I wanted to hear from him or not. Radio silence from Captain Cactus-face can only mean one thing. He knows squat. So I'm asking you.'

'Not big with the sharing,' she said to him, walking by and going to sit in the chair behind her desk. 'So - it's been lovely of you to drop by but please - feel free to leave and never come back.'

Angel got off the desk and stood up, turning to look at her. He scanned her up and down for a moment. 'Do you know what I smell?' he asked at last.

'Chanel?'

'Fear.'

'Well - you are very imposing in this light.'

He shook his head. 'You're not afraid of me, Lilah - you're afraid of what's coming. Maybe we can help each other, huh, the enemy of my enemy...'

'Can kiss my ass, too,' she interrupted, 'you wanna play hero - go find another sandbox.' She kept her face hard - and maintained eye contact, trying to stare him down. But she couldn't disguise the thumping of her heart, or the fear coming off of her in waves - and Angel's vampire senses were picking up on all of that. He wrinkled his brow. 'This has taken you by surprise,' he said.

'Didn't Gavin tell you that?' her voice was as hard as her face, but her heart was still treacherously thumping in her chest - giving her away.

'Yeah - but it's more than being blindsided. You have nothing on this - do you? You're fighting as blind as we are.'

'Not every source of evil out there respects the Senior Partner's strict timetable. It happens. We'll sort it.'

'But you don't even know what you're looking for? Or where to look? Thanks …' he turned and walked out of the office.

'Where are you going?' Lilah called after him, not understanding what had made him turn and leave. But Angel ignored her. This shortcut had been a bust. Not only was Wolfram and Hart not involved in the end of days … but they had nothing to offer about who was behind it. In fact - Angel suspected that Lilah and Gavin probably knew even less than he did. They didn't know about Kali - and how this was all wrapped up with her destiny.

Wolfram and Hart were fighting blind. Angel at least had one lead. With reluctance, he decided it was probably time to bring Doyle back to the hotel.

* * *

'Noble Majesty, do you know where it is we are going?' The Groosalug asked, as the three of them made their way down the twisting, dark alleys. It was quiet here - no people around, no plagues of insects or rats or toads - and the undefeated champion did not understand why they were lingering in this place - though he had full confidence that his King would have good reason.

'Not really -' Doyle answered, 'I just feel …' he came to a stop and glanced around the street, taking it in and trying to get his bearings. 'I just feel that this is … the right way to go, you know?'

'Ah - it is the higher powers blessing you with their divine wisdom.'

'Maybe that … not exactly.' He frowned - and then made a decision. 'This way,' he said, leading his companions into this next alley. 'This is the one…'

'The one what?...' Kali asked. But Doyle didn't answer and she scrunched her nose up as they rounded the corner, into a dimly lit alleyway festooned with paper lanterns, and came across a looming, burned out shell of a building. 'Wait a minute …' she said, 'this place … we've been here before.'

'We have?' Doyle came to a stop again and looked at her, his face puzzled.

'Yes! This is the place those men brought me to, where you rescued me.' She pointed to the highest window ledge, leading out the fire escape, 'that's how we escaped from the burning building.'

'Madam Dorion's,' Doyle said, slowly, looking around, 'yeah - you might be right … huh.'

'You said you felt something, Noble Majesty - that this place was the one. This place is a place of evil - you said it yourself - it is why we destroyed it. And now the end times are coming. Perhaps it was the remnants of evil that brought you here? '

'Could've been,' the Irishman agreed, 'could've been. And - o'course, Kali wasn't the only girl they took. This alley…' he looked around, it seemed so long ago now - a lifetime ago, already - the suffocating smoke choking him out, the frightened cries, that strange sense of destiny that had led him here - led him to Kali, letting him know that he was on the right path - even before he could explain it. 'You guys know that I'm linked to the Powers That Be - that they speak to me, work through me … they sent me here for a reason once before...' He looked around, seeing the place he and Kali had collapsed, once they were safely down from the building. As he looked on - the ground suddenly erupted. The earth was thrown upwards and something massive, framed in red light, burst forth from underneath.


	27. Apocalypse Nowish: Part Three

_Part Three_

The creature - The Beast - whatever it was, was huge, more like a mountain than a man. And more than just the size of it - it appeared to be made from living rock. It's skin was hard and grey, like granite, but beneath there was red and gold - flowing, like molten lava. The demon was like a volcano made flesh and - as it erupted from the ground - it carried all the destructive force of surging magma.

The ground cracked and the earth was flung, in heavy chunks, in every direction. Once freed completely from its subterranean prison, The Beast bore down on the small group in the alley. It walked towards them on cloven hooves and - in the light of the paper lanterns - cast a massive, horned shadow across the moist pavement, swallowing Doyle and the others in the darkness.

The Groosalug - the brave and undefeated - took one glance at this massive monster and raised his sword, charging towards it. But The Beast merely swiped out with one thunderous paw and smacked Groo away from itself - sending him flying across the alley. Groo hit a steel dumpster and collapsed to the floor.

The Beast took another step towards Doyle and Kali, his every footstep - on those massive hooves - ringing out like the crash of a canon. Doyle pushed Kali behind himself and flung an arm out to block her from The Beast. Kali cowered behind her protector - staring up in horror at the monster that was coming directly for her. She gripped Doyle so tightly that her knuckles went white.

Doyle tried to back them up. He, too, was staring up into the molten, rocky face of The Beast - though he did not try to fight it. 'Stay away from her,' he said - pushing Kali even further back. But The Beast only reached out and grabbed the Irishman by the neck, lifting him from the floor, so that his feet dangled in midair. Kali screamed and reached out to pull Doyle back down to her, but The Beast swung him away.

He raised Doyle until the small half demon was eye level with him - and stared at him. Doyle stared straight back. He didn't thrash or scream, but he did wrap his hands around The Beast's wrists, giving himself more support as he dangled in midair. He started to turn purple from the lack of oxygen. The Beast continued to stare at him - whilst Kali continued to scream, still trying to reach Doyle and bring him back down to the ground.

And then Groo was back on his feet, his blade in his hand, once again. He charged at The Beast one more time - and The Beast threw Doyle aside to turn and fight with Groo. Doyle flew through the air and landed on Kali, both of them tumbling to the ground, just as The Beast - once again - raised his mighty fist and smacked the Groosalug away from himself. The Groosalug flew in the opposite direction to Doyle, once more crumpling to the ground.

Then, The Beast turned back to the two demons, wrapped up in each other, down on the floor. Kali began to scramble away, through the rubble - and Doyle, backing up - followed her. He did not take his eyes of The Beast, the whole time. The skin on his neck, where The Beast had held him, was all torn and red. He backed up as far as he could go - hitting up against the walls of Madam Dorion's - and came to a stop. From his position, huddled on the ground, he stared up at the oncoming monster. 'Kali, run!' he shouted, not tearing his eyes away from the face of The Beast. But Kali did not want to leave him - and she stayed put, cowering behind the rubble, whimpering, as she watched The Beast bear down on her saviour and protector.

Doyle and The Beast stared into each other's eyes and, as Kali watched, it was like they were recognising the connection: predator and prey - where one had complete dominion over the other, and there was nothing the other could do.

The Groosalug forced himself back into a standing position. He gripped his sword, tightly, though he swayed on his feet. 'No!' he said - as he saw The Beast move towards Doyle, 'leave His Majesty alone.'

The Beast stopped - and turned to look at the Groosalug - and then back at Doyle, making eye contact once more. Doyle lay on the ground, propped up only by the rubble at his back - and waited; breathing heavily. Then, The Beast began to laugh. With one, last look at Doyle - sprawled on the ground - the demon then jumped, in one bound, to the roof of the five storey building behind him.

The small group stared upward, after him - not quite daring to believe he was gone. Their breath came in quick, ragged bursts and their hearts were beating erratically - fast and wild. Both Kali and Groo made their way over to where Doyle was collapsed. 'Are you injured, Noble Majesty?' The Groosalug asked him, squatting down beside him. Kali had crawled across to them, and she was fussing at Doyle's neck - trying to get a look. He squirmed away from her. 'I'm OK,' he said, 'I'm OK…' He took a look at the Groosalug, who had blood dripping from his mouth, 'what about you?'

The Groosalug hung his head, 'I have never been defeated before,' he said, quietly, 'never in all my days as champion have I encountered a beast so savage. I am sorry I could not protect you, My Lord.'

'No…' Doyle shook his head, 'I meant, are you hurt?' he turned to look at Kali, 'and you?'

'I'm fine,' Kali said, her breath still loud and heavy, 'he didn't touch me … what was that thing? And why did it just … leave?'

'In truth, I have never known a warrior to leave the battlefield when he had the upper hand,' the Groosalug told them, 'his behaviour was most strange.'

'Yeah … can't explain it,' Doyle said. He struggled back to his feet, wincing as he stood - he had hurt his leg, when he was tossed back to the ground, and it struggled to take his weight. The others stood with him. 'I think now might be a good time to go see Angel.'

* * *

The team were still working in the lobby - though Angel was not yet back from Wolfram and Hart. They hoped that when he returned it would be with answers - because they weren't getting anywhere. They looked up, as the front door opened, expecting their boss. But it was Wesley. 'It's a bit ripe in here,' he said, 'I'd suggest opening a window, but…' he looked pointedly at the bodies of the dead sparrows.

'Wesley!' Fred's face lit up into a smile, as she saw him, and Wesley smiled, softly, back at her. Gunn noticed - and looked between the two of them, frowning. The woman raised the musty old book she was trying to read, 'thank God you're here,' she said to the watcher, 'I've been combing through all these old texts 'til my head went kerpluey … but I'm not gettin' anythin'. Maybe you can…'

'That aint why he's here,' Gunn said, folding his arms across his chest and staring Wesley down. 'Angel called him to give us the 411 on the calls him and Irish have been receiving. He can help us out with that and then go on his way.'

'Charles,' Fred frowned, she kept her voice quiet - trying to keep their argument private, 'we need all the help we can get. Now's not the time to...'

'No - it's quite alright,' Wesley interrupted, he raised a small notebook and showed it to them, 'these are the phone calls we've been receiving over at our end. Let's pool the information - maybe we can solve this.' He stepped further into the lobby and his eyes fell on Connor - who was still sitting on his playmat, pushing his trains around. The watcher stopped and stared.

'Wes?' Cordelia came up behind him - wheeling their case-board into the middle of the open area. He shook himself and looked back at her, 'fine - I'm fine,' he said. He snuck another glance at Connor - and then looked back at Cordelia. She frowned. 'Well - good - because we have work to do.' She tacked a large map of L.A onto the case-board, and handed a marker to Fred. 'Right, Wes - Gunn, you both read out the locations of the phone calls - me and Fred will mark them on the map. Let's see if there isn't a pattern to all this horror and bloodshed.'

The door opened again. This time it was Angel arriving back. 'Did you learn anything?' Cordelia asked, stopping her plotting to speak to him. 'Did hell bitch have anything useful to say?'

Angel cast an uncomfortable glance at Wesley, who kept his head down, and then shook his head. 'No - this isn't them. They didn't see it coming and they don't know what's causing it.'

'Do you believe them? If this was them - wouldn't they just lie, anyway? They've been working on bringing the apocalypse for years. I know they're the villains of the piece, but surely even evil incorporated aren't stupid enough to start monologuing their evil plans just as the fun starts?'

But Angel shook his head, again. Cordelia was right - you couldn't just trust Wolfram and Hart's word for it … but Gavin and Lilah were terrified, he had smelled it. That wasn't a law firm waiting to throw itself a celebration party at an apocalypse well done. That was a law firm running round in circles with its pants down. Lilah couldn't help. They were on their own.

He crossed over to where Connor was and picked up his son, holding him close and giving him a kiss. Wesley coughed and looked away. Lorne - relieved of Connor duty - got to his feet and went to pour himself a SeaBreeze. If the end was coming - he wasn't going out dry. He came back round the counter and stood a few feet away from the case-board, his head tilted to one side, as he watched the women plot the location of the phone calls on to the map. He cleared his throat. 'Um… I hate to be the demon who cried Apocalypse Nowish … but aren't these phone calls making a shape?'

'Let me see,' still cradling Connor, Angel stepped up to the board. The women fell back, so they could see it from a distance - and Gunn and Wesley joined them. So far the phone calls had drawn out three straight lines; two parallel to each other and perpendicular to the third. They were all the exact same length. Angel traced the lines with his finger, 'it's … are they making a square?' He turned to look at the others, 'get it finished, plot the others on.'

He and Lorne stood and watched as Wesley and Gunn continued to read out their phone logs - and Cordy and Fred marked them on to the map. Balanced on Angel's hip, Connor began to grizzle but - apart from jigging him a little - Angel ignored him and watched, as the final line was formed along the map.

'Is that it?' he asked, as Fred marked on a cross which joined the last line to another. 'is it done?' But Gunn shook his head. 'There's more,' he said, 'we got more phone calls to go.'

'At least half as many again,' Wesley agreed.

'Well - get on with it. This means something - I'm sure of it.'

The four of them continued to work, steadily; Gunn reading out a location and Fred marking it and then Wesley reading out a location and Cordelia marking it. Each cross seemed to follow on from the one before … like there was a perfect design to it; like - whoever was responsible for this - had known exactly how the calls would be tracked. The various plagues had spread around the city in a precise order - and the reports of them had been split evenly - and alternately - between the two groups of evil fighters.

Angel and Lorne stared - as the group began to plot on the sixth and final line. The reports had been made from locations which formed a square, with two diagonal lines running through it - crossing in the middle. 'The eye of fire,' Angel said, once it was finished. The others looked confused. But Wesley nodded - also staring at the shape, 'the ancient alchemical sign for fire.'

'And destruction,' Angel added.

'You had me at fire,' Gunn said.

Cordelia moved away from the map and went to stand beside Angel and Connor. She stood close to the vampire and he wrapped his arm around her - but he didn't look away from the symbol. 'So… what does this mean?' she asked the group, 'what's happening?'

The door opened again - and everyone turned to look. Cordelia stepped hastily out of Angel's arms, as Doyle walked through the door, followed by Kali and Groo. Cordy's eyes narrowed as she saw the state of them, and she hurried off to get her first aid kit.

Angel saw the look on Doyle's face - and he squeezed Connor tighter, protectively. 'What's wrong?' he asked.

'We got a problem, bud,' Doyle told him, 'a big one… big being the operative word.'

...

He began to fill the others in on the monstrous demon that they had fought - that had almost killed them. As he told the team how it had erupted from the ground just outside Madam Dorion's, Cordelia arrived back with her first aid kit. She pulled Groo over to the round sofa - as he seemed hurt the worst, and began to clean up his cuts and scrapes. Then she checked over Kali - who assured her she was fine - The Beast had not touched her, Doyle had protected her from it - been hurt in her place.

Cordy glanced across at the half demon - who was still talking to Angel - and smiled at the thought of his heroics … before quickly switching that smile off. She'd always known Doyle was brave - the real deal in the hero department - it didn't change anything.

'It was strong,' Doyle was saying, 'I mean - really strong. It lifted me clean off the ground and sent the Groosalug flyin' down the alley without breakin' a sweat. And it can jump … high.'

'Are you OK?' Cordelia asked him, moving towards him to check out his injuries. He ignored her and carried on talking to Angel, 'we got no idea where it went, man, but ... wherever it goes it's gonna do some serious damage.'

'Let me look at your neck,' Cordelia said to him, 'I need to fix you up.'

But he swatted her away, 'leave it, Cordelia, I'm fine.'

'But-'

'I said _I'm fine_.' He moved away from her - folding his arms across his chest and going to look at the map. A look of hurt flashed across Cordelia's face. But she shook her head and didn't comment.

'So … what's this, then?' the Irishman asked - motioning towards the map.

'We've been plotting all the reports of the creepy stuff we've been getting - us and you guys,' Cordelia told him, 'they've made this shape.'

'It's the eye of fire,' Angel said, again, 'an ancient alchemical symbol for … well, fire.'

'Fire?' Doyle looked interested in this - whereas he had seemed underwhelmed by Cordelia's explanations. He looked closely, at the vampire. 'What do you know about this?' he asked.

'Ancient symbol - fire, destruction. Why?'

'This guy - this demon guy - The Beast … he looked … he looked like he was sorta made o' fire. Like molten lava. Guy was a walkin' volcano - and pretty destructive, I might add.'

'So - this is the guy that's causing all this? The big bad?' Angel nodded his head, 'good - so we kill him.'

'Easier said than done, bud,' Doyle protested, 'I'm tellin 'y' - this guy threw the Groosalug like he was a ... teeny tiny Groosalug. This is gonna take careful plannin' and…'

He was cut off by the ground beginning to rumble beneath their feet. The walls began to shake and the windows rattled in their frames. Lorne grabbed the counter for support. Connor began to cry.

'Earthquake,' Cordelia said, sighing, 'those always end so well for us.'

'Cordelia's right,' Angel agreed - 'we don't have time to plan, to prepare. We just have to get out there and stop this thing.'

'So - where we gonna look for this big nasty?' Gunn asked, 'Irish said it flew away, or whatever.'

'There,' Angel tapped the map in the centre of the square they had marked out, right where the two diagonal lines intersected.

'The focal point of the disturbances,' Wesley nodded.

'Whatever this thing is, that's where we'll find it.' The vampire handed Connor to Cordelia and then headed for the weapons cabinet and took down his broadsword. 'Cordy, Fred - I want you two to stay here with Connor. This thing is too dangerous to risk you coming along.'

Cordelia opened her mouth to protest, but Angel cut her off. 'I need someone I can trust protecting my son, whilst all this is going down. Cordy, I need you standing guard, here. If this thing is as strong as Doyle says then … there's not much you can do to help. But you can protect Connor whilst hell is breaking out all over.'

'Kali - you need to stay here, too,' Doyle said.

'You can't fight this thing, Doyle,' she said to him, her voice sounding scared, 'it nearly killed you and Groo - not half an hour ago. Your neck is injured, your leg is hurt, you can't fight this.'

He crossed to her and held her, gently, by her upper arms, 'Kali,' he said, his voice soft, 'I know you're frightened. But saving the world is what these guys do. It's all in a day's work. Stay here with Cordy and Fred - and don't leave until I come back, OK?' He looked deep into her eyes, until she nodded. 'Good. This thing is after you, Kali, we cannot let it get you.' Then he turned back to the others, 'so where is this focal point, we're headed to?'

'I know the area,' Gunn told them, 'it's the old Kimball building. They put a bar up on the roof - uh - the Sky Temple - I think.'

Lorne nodded, he had heard of the bar. It was a watering hole for the achingly hip. Actors, models - all the hot mamas and yamas gathered there.

'So who's thirsty?' Angel asked, throwing weapons to all of the men. They headed out of the front door - but Doyle stopped in the doorway and turned back. 'Cordelia,' he said. She looked at him, her face was worried, frightened, as she watched all her friends - the men she loved - go off to face the bringer of the apocalypse; but, as she looked up at him - her expression softened, for a moment. He held eye contact with her. 'This thing is after Kali,' he told her, 'her destiny is wrapped up in all this and keepin' her safe has to be our number one priority. You need to protect her - no matter what - even if it costs you your life.' Then he followed the others out into the street. Cordelia stared after him.

* * *

The men walked into the entrance of the club, their weapons primed and ready for the fight. Doyle hung back a little. He'd seen The Beast. He knew this was unlikely to end the way the others thought it was going to - and he was not surprised when they came to a sudden halt. Nearly eight feet tall - from his cloven hooves to the tip of his curved horns - and looking like he was made from living, burning rock - The Beast was like nothing they had ever seen before.

It was stood in the middle of the floor, surrounded by human corpses - which looked like they had been ripped apart. The dead bodies were laid out in formation - forming a square. The Beast stood at the centre of the square, holding one dead man - dangling in mid air - by the foot. The way the body hung formed an X shape. The Beast had recreated the eye of fire out of human flesh.

It saw the little band of warriors - and began to chuckle at the sight of them.

'I'm gonna need a bigger arrow,' Lorne murmured - staring up at the monstrous creature.


	28. Apocalypse Nowish: Part Four

_Part Four_

'Are you OK?' Cordelia deposited Connor back on his playmat and then went over to where Kali was sitting on the round sofa - quiet and frightened.

The demon woman took a deep breath and pushed her cerise hair away from her face. 'I'm just … I just … I hate this.'

Cordelia sat down beside her and put a comforting hand on her arm - she looked across at Fred, giving the other woman a significant glance and a nod of her head. Fred nodded and scurried off to behind the counter. 'This stuff - it takes a lot of getting used to,' Cordelia said, gently, 'it's always weird, it's often frightening … sometimes it's just _gross_. But the thing is - this life - it chooses people, people The Powers know can handle it.'

'Well - I don't wanna be chosen,' Kali retorted, 'I just wanna go home.'

'To the motel? I don't think you'll be any safer there.'

'No! Not the motel. Home. my real home.' She buried her head in her hands - but then looked up when she became aware that someone was standing right by her. Fred hovered above her, 'hey - I made you some herbal tea,' she said, handing Kali the mug, 'it might help … soothe.'

Kali took it, nodding her thanks. 'Where is home?' Cordelia asked her.

'Okefenokee - the Florida side,' Kali said.

'Oh,' Cordelia said, frowning, having never heard of it. 'Sounds … nice.'

That made Kali smile. 'It's just swamp land. Miles and miles of nothing but conifers and herons and alligators. My people … we've been there a long time. Since before the English settlers came. It's quiet. Deadly dull and - the craziest thing is that - before I got here, I would have given anything to come to a place like L.A. Heck, I'd have settled for Kissimmee. I just wanted something more than … the whole lot of nothing the swamp had to offer. But then I got kidnapped … and then that green guy discovered I had this big, dangerous destiny and … I just wanna go back and have my mom cook me some cajun otter.'

'Otter?'

'They're easier to kill and cook than alligator.'

'Well, listen,' Cordelia patted her arm once again, 'the guys are absolutely gonna stop this apocalypse. I guarantee it. Destiny doesn't have to be written in stone. They kill the beastie, your whole future opens up. You can be back in the swamp, wrestling alligators, before you know it.'

'We don't actually _wrestle_ the alligators, you know.'

'Well,' she gave the demon woman her brightest smile, 'whatever you do with them - that's what you'll be doing. Soon.'

But Kali shook her head, 'you didn't see that thing,' she told Cordelia, 'that Beast … if it hadn't got bored of us, we'd be dead in that alley. I really don't think the guys can kill it.'

'And I promise you that they can.'

* * *

Angel charged at The Beast, his sword raised high. He swung the blade with all his might - a decisive blow that would chop most demons in half. It had no effect. When the metal made contact with the rock like skin of The Beast, there was a pinging noise - and the sword simply glanced off - as harmless as if it were made of rubber.

Undeterred, Angel turned and swung again. And again. And again. He whipped the blade through the air, slashing at the Beast with all his strength. But nothing made a difference. The sword could not penetrate the stony hide of The Beast - and eventually The Beast got bored of letting him try. It plucked the blade straight from Angel's hand and discarded it, throwing it aside, carelessly. Then, just as easily, it threw Angel across the room. Angel collided with the wall and smashed down to the floor. The wall cracked and crumbled where he hit it - raining down chunks of plaster on top of him.

The Groosalug had followed Angel straight into the fray. But just as had happened out in the alley, he was sent flying. He hit the opposite wall to Angel and tumbled to the ground.

Gunn hurled his hubcap axe at The Beast's head. But The Beast snatched it out of midair, bent the axe out of shape and then threw it back at the street fighter. The force with which the mangled axe hit Gunn knocked him off his feet.

Groo grabbed his sword, from where it had fallen out of his hand, and charged again at the demon. But once more, he was carelessly flung aside and this time - when he hit the wall and landed, heavily, he did not get back up.

Doyle raised his sword and began to circle The Beast, as Wes and Lorne fired their crossbows. The arrows flew straight at the monstrous creature - but once more, it deflected. It raised a massive forearm and and the arrows simply bounced off - their trajectory changed so they now hit Angel, who was struggling back to his feet. The vampire doubled over in pain, as one hit him straight in the gut and the other impaled his shoulder.

The Beast stared at them all - making Doyle jump back a couple of paces, his sword still raised. Wesley and Lorne were busy reloading their crossbows. It picked up Angel and hurled him at the two of them. Once more, the vampire crashed to the floor - and Wes and Lorne were knocked off balance, their crossbows falling from their hands.

Gunn was back up and - with a sword of his own - ran straight at The Beast, aiming his blade at its head. Doyle followed the younger man - rushing forward, his sword held in readiness. But The Beast grabbed Gunn by the neck and flung him across the room and, when it turned to face Doyle, the Irishman hit the deck; rolling out of the way just as The Beast's massive paw swung into the space where Doyle's head had been just a moment before.

Wesley reached inside his jacket with both hands and pulled out two automatic handguns. He shot them both at the same time over and over; into The Beast's head; into it's chest … but it had no effect and eventually the bullets were spent. The Beast began to move towards him, but Wesley stood his ground. He dropped the now defunct handguns and took out a shot gun and fired it straight into The Beast's chest.

The Beast flinched - but the bullet did not damage it, ricocheting off its stony chest. Wesley aimed again - this time for the face. This shot downed The Beast. It fell to the floor, landing on its knees - the whole floor quaked under the force. Wesley aimed the shot gun right at The Beast's head - at very close range. But The Beast only smiled. It yanked the gun out of Wesley's grip, as he had done with Angel's weapons, and then threw it across the room. Raising a massive paw, it then backhanded Wesley - and the watcher flew through the air - following the trajectory of his own gun.

The Beast began to laugh - a low, loud, rumbling laugh that sounded like it came from the depths of the earth, itself.

'You might wanna hold the gloat, chuckles,' Angel said, getting back to his feet and pulling the arrow out of his shoulder. 'We're just getting started.'

* * *

'This is bad,' Cordelia was now pacing up and down the lobby, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration. 'They should be back by now.' She looked across at where Fred and Kali were still sat on the round sofa, 'don't you think they should be back by now?' Too much had time had passed - and her complete confidence in the men's ability to get the job done had slowly ebbed away, leaving her nervous and fretful.

'I would feel a lot better if they just walked through that door,' Fred admitted, twisting to glance at the front door, hopefully. It remained closed. No sign of the guys. 'But surely this thing can't be any worse than anything else they've faced. I mean, combined? They're all together… they can take …'

'It's worse,' Kali said, her voice small.

'You can't know that,' Fred told her, 'you don't know what they've been up against in the past.'

'I know what I saw.'

'Tell us about it,' Cordelia said to her, quitting her pacing to face the demon woman, 'what was it like?'

'He's like … walking rock,' Kali said, 'the size of a mountain. His skin is hard and stony and underneath … it's like there's lava flowing beneath the surface. It's like - like a volcano was turned into a living creature … but lost none of its destructive force. And it has hooves and these horns… giant, curved horns. He came out from - just burst out from the ground - like the devil himself. And when he fought … he sent the Groosalug flying through the air, caused him more damage than I think even he realised he could sustain. He was bleeding heavily. He goes out and patrols most nights - I've never seen him come back injured, before. Not like that. And Doyle … it lifted him clean off the ground, one handed - held him by the throat. And where its fingers had touched him - his skin was red, like he'd been burned by its touch. I… I don't think there's anything they can do to stop it.'

Silence reigned over the lobby for a time, after she had finished speaking, whilst the other women took this information in. Digested it. 'Right!' Cordelia said after a long pause, her voice loud and forceful, 'I can't take just sitting here doing nothing. I'm going online and researching this thing - there must be something out there. Fred - you hit the books. If this dude is as badass as Kali says, then hopefully the guys will have the sense to retreat - before it smooshes them into a sticky paste. And when they get back here, we'll have found its weak spot for them.'

She headed to her computer and Fred went to go get some books - though she was unsure as to which of the books were likely to help her. Kali watched them for a while, 'can I help?' she asked eventually. Fred handed her one of the books, 'sure - two sets of eyes are always quicker than one, when it comes to going through these dusty ol' things.'

'Thanks,' Kali smiled, taking the book from her, 'it feels good to help. I just feel so…'

'Helpless?' Cordelia guessed, looking over from her computer. The demon woman nodded - and sighed - 'this is just all my fault,' she said, 'the guys are out - probably getting themselves killed - and it's all because of me. I can't stand this.'

Fred and Cordy exchanged a worried glance, 'Kali, sweetie,' Cordy said, trying to keep her voice soothing, 'I know this Beast guy scared you - but it is not your fault he's here.'

'He's here because of me, he rose up in the place I met Doyle,' Kali argued, 'this is what Lorne saw when he read me.'

'No! … well, maybe … but Kali, just because this is all wrapped up in your destiny does _not _make what is happening your fault. You didn't summon him forth. You're not making him go out and kill people … are you?' Cordelia frowned, as the possibility struck her. But Kali shook her head, vehemently. Of course she wasn't controlling this guy - and she didn't know how he had got here or what he was here to do. But she knew, in her heart, that he was inextricably linked to her. And that made what was happening all her fault.

* * *

Angel launched himself at The Beast - throwing fast and furious punches at every bit of the creature's monstrous body. But The Beast returned the blows in kind - and his fists of stone were more effective than Angel's. It struck him straight in the face and sent him flying back through the air. The vampire twisted - backflipping midair - and then landed on his feet on a canvas awning. He was in full vamp face now - and jumped down, landing right in front of his attacker.

Again, they traded blows, hard punches that caused each of them to stagger back and regain their footing. But eventually Angel, stronger and faster in his vampire features, managed to move quickly, tripping The Beast and forcing it to the floor. He then pulled a dagger out of his ankle holster and aimed it straight at The Beast's yellow eyes.

Instinctively, The Beast reached out and caught Angel's arm, before he could plunge the blade home. The dagger remained just an inch from the yellow eye of The Beast, but Angel could not move his arm against its vice like grip. Slowly, The Beast forced the dagger backwards, away from its eye. To Angel it felt like his arm was being crushed under the mighty grip of the demon, and he could not struggle or strain against it. As it pushed backwards, The Beast twisted the dagger, so the blade now pointed at Angel - and then rammed it home into his shoulder.

Angel dropped to his knees, gasping in pain. His vampire features melted from his face and blood dribbled from his mouth.

Doyle, seeing the fight over the dagger, ran forward - his sword raised. But the Beast turned to stare at him - their eyes meeting, and Doyle faltered to a stop. The Beast began to chuckle again - and then turned back to Angel, who was still groaning in agony. It began to chuckle again that deep, thunderous laugh that rumbled on and on like an earthquake. 'Do you really think you're the _hero_ to stop all this?' he asked the vampire, his voice sounded as ancient and powerful as the earth itself - as if it came straight from the core.

Then, it got to its feet; lifted the injured vampire above its head and threw him - hurling him out into the city. Angel flew over the railing, well beyond the edge of the building, and then plummeted down to the ground.

Gunn struggled back to his feet and ran to the edge, hoping to see his boss, 'no!' … but the ground was too far away, and the night too dark, there was no sign of Angel. The street fighter turned back, headed for the Beast. Groo had woken up and was, like Gunn, stalking towards the creature, sword raised. Doyle and Lorne looked on, panicked, as the two larger men closed in on the gigantic demon. But The Beast ignored them all.

It knelt back down and punched a massive fist right in the centre of the square of dead bodies it had created. Fire shot out across the floor, licking round the bodies and forming the shape of the eye of fire. A shock wave emanated out from the centre of the symbol, knocking the band of heroes off their feet. Lorne was thrown backwards and landed on the skylight, crashing through onto the floor below. Gunn, Wes and Groo were all knocked onto their backs. The Groosalug flipped himself round and crawled across to the skylight on his belly, peering down to see if his fellow Pylean was OK. Only Doyle had managed to keep his feet; though he staggered, like a drunkard, as the force hit him - and he was forced to clutch onto the barrier at the edge of the roof to stay upright. He stared at The Beast; green eyes meeting yellow. As he stared, the fire grew taller - the flames leaping higher.

Wesley struggled to sit up just in time to see The Beast leap straight upwards into the air. The creature rode a column of orange fire right up into the sky, disappearing from view. There was a dull, distant sound - like a muffled explosion - and then the fire that had been raging upward began to cascade down. Burning flecks of orange rained from the dark night sky - like the ashes of Vesuvius smothering Pompeii. Ducking for cover, Wesley grabbed the unconscious Gunn and began to carry him away from the flames.

* * *

Angel lay on the ground - the road cracked beneath him, from the impact of his fall. He rolled over - wincing in pain and bleeding profusely from his fight - and his fall. He reached over and pulled the dagger from his shoulder; crying out in agony, as he did. Then he stared at the sky - at the flecks of flames floating their way down to earth. Unable to move - he just stared upward, unbelieving.

* * *

Kali stood at the glass doors that led out to the courtyard, staring up. 'Kali, come away from there,' Cordelia called to her, but the demon woman ignored her - just staring up at the burning sky in horror. This was her fault. Her doing. But she didn't know how to fix it - or stop it.

'Do you think they're OK?' she heard Fred whisper to Cordy, the Texan woman's voice was scared and small.

'I'm sure of it.' Cordy tried to make her own voice confident, 'they'll be back soon.'

'This is it, isn't it? The end ... the apocalypse.'

'Yeah,' Cordy breathed.

'Is it Wolfram and Hart?' Kali heard Fred ask, 'is this their apocalypse?'

'Lilah said no.'

'And you trust _Lilah Morgan?_'

'Never.'

* * *

Lorne had woken up. He had landed in an office, beneath the sky bar, and - even before he opened his eyes, he was aware of the glare of orange behind his eyelids. Now upright, once more, he was standing at the office window - staring out at the fireballs - his expression frozen and horrified. He heard a thumping sound behind him - and turned to see the Groosalug land in the office - having jumped through the skylight. 'Are you well, Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok clan? You are not hurt?'

Lorne didn't answer - he just turned back to the window and stared outward. Groo joined him, there, putting a hand on his shoulder as they stood and watched the flames together.

* * *

Fred was on her cell phone, trying to reach Gunn. It went to his answer machine. She hung up and went to go and stand beside Kali.

* * *

Wesley had picked up Gunn's limp body and carried him to a sheltered part of the club. From under the awning, Wes stared out at the sky.

* * *

Lilah stood at the large plate glass window in her fifth storey office and stared out across the city. She could see it spread out beneath her - for miles - the lights twinkling like fallen stars. And she could see how far the rain of fire reached. She wrapped her arms around herself, tightly, rubbing her upper arms with her hands - as if for warmth and comfort - and stared out at the burning sky and the helpless city. Worrying.

* * *

Cordy had joined Fred and Kali at the window now. The three women watched in silence, their arms wrapped around each other, as the fire rained down.

* * *

Angel sat in the street. The flecks of fire that landed on him scorched his skin - but he stayed still. In pain - and utterly defeated - he just sat in the road and watched the world burn.

* * *

Doyle stared up at the sky - at the place where The Beast had disappeared from view. Wherever it was now - this rain of fire was just the beginning, and it boded ill for Angel and his friends. They would have to find The Beast again. But defeated so completely, already, they would be ill prepared to fight it once more. This really was it. The end. Or - the beginning of it, anyway. Angel couldn't stop this. Not even with all his friends behind him. This was something bigger than the vampire had ever faced. And Angel just did not have the power.

Doyle stood for a long time on the top of the building, staring up at the cascading rain of flames. He didn't even flinch as some of them landed on is skin. He didn't seem to notice. He just stared upward; thinking about Angel, and The Beast, and Kali - and what would come next.

It was a long time before he shook himself out of his reverie and turned and left the sky bar, following the others.

* * *

**A/N and thankfully nobody ever had sex with their surrogate son. The end. Next episode is 'Habeas Corpses'. **


	29. Habeas Corpses: Part One

**Habeas Corpses**

_Part One _

'A series of earthquakes and what authorities are now calling 'meteor showers' have ravaged the southland tonight, igniting fires and explosions throughout the L.A basin,' the newscaster's voice streamed out of the radio, as the women sat beside it and listened, tensely. Fred reached out and turned up the volume, before burying her face in her hands. Cordelia put her arm around her. 'As fire and rescue teams assess the ongoing threat, government officials are asking people to stay in their homes and off the street.'

The phone began to ring and Fred grabbed at it, 'this is Fred,' she blurted out - but then her face fell - as the voice at the other end was not Gunn's, but a woman's. 'Yes ma'am,' she said, 'Angel Inves - I know it is scary but - if she's only an hour late… I'm just saying maybe it's a bit too early to panic. A little fire falling from the sky doesn't necessarily mean the end of…'

There was the sound of the front door opening and she whirled around and dropped the phone. She ran across the lobby and flung her arms around Gunn, who was followed inside by Wes, Lorne, Groo and Doyle.

Kali also ran over to the men - over to Doyle. She cupped his face with her hands - looking at were the flames had singed his skin. He shook his head. He was OK - no need to fuss.

'I thought you were dead!' Fred was saying, her arms still wrapped tightly around her boyfriend, her voice sounded choked up - like she was trying not to cry. He hugged her back, holding her close. Wesley watched them - though he said nothing.

'I know, baby,' Gunn said to her, 'it's like the end of the world out there.'

'But you're all safe now,' Fred pulled back a little and looked at the rest of them. They all nodded their heads. They were exhausted; beaten, bloody, burned and singed - but they had got back to the hotel in one piece.

'Where's Angel?' Cordelia's voice cut through the reunion - and it was high pitched, wavering in panic. Her eyes were scared. She kept glancing around at the other men - as if they were maybe hiding him, or perhaps one of them might suddenly turn into the vampire and surprise her. But the men stayed themselves - and it seemed that they were not hiding their boss under their jackets. 'Where is he?'

'We got separated,' Gunn told her, still clinging to Fred, 'I'm sure he'll be here soon.'

'Separated how?' Cordelia did not sound reassured, 'what happened to him? Where did he go?'

'The Beast threw him off the building,' Wesley told her, 'just before he triggered the firework display. The landing might have hurt Angel, but he will be fine. He'll make his own way back.'

Through the fire? Through the flaming rain and sky of fire? He's a vampire - _hello_!'

'He'll be fine, Cordelia,' Doyle said to her, still standing close to Kali, 'he'll be here.'

'Yeah,' Gunn agreed, finally pulling away from Fred and staring around at everyone else, 'and in the meantime we need to regroup, think about getting back out there and mixing it up with that demony thing.'

'That's not what Angel would do,' Wesley said. He was sat one of the high stools, by the counter, slumped over - exhausted. But he looked straight into Gunn's eyes, as he spoke.

'Thanks for your opinion - and I don't remember asking.'

'Not that I'm taking sides,' Lorne said - he had gone to make himself a SeaBreeze and was now stirring it, 'but I'm not crazy about the idea of going back out there and facing off against the big, bad, possibly invincible thing that nearly killed us all before he ring mastered tonight's cirque du Flambe. I vote we lie low - wait for Angel - and then lie low some more.'

'Surely the blade of the Groosalug will be able to best this creature. We have a saying back in my homeland - _grwpl snyg fleghnagh grwpl snyg urhfgedt Tarknah lmbtdd_.'

'May your enemies taste your blade or may they taste your flesh in Tarknah,' Lorne translated for the others, 'cheery little saying for a cheery little people. But I don't think it applies here … That beastie tasted your blade, Groo, honey - it bounced right off of him.'

'Lorne's right - this thing, whatever it is - is bigger than all of us,' Wesley said, 'we've never faced anything like this before.'

'Is this what Lorne saw when he read Kali that time?' Fred asked, 'all the death and destruction and horror?'

'Could be, peanut,' Lorne told her, 'though I think tonight was just the tip of the iceberg - and we're the Titanic.'

'I knew it,' Kali's voice was soft and sad. She looked down at her feet. Doyle wrapped a comforting arm around her. 'This isn't your fault, Kali,' he told her, softly, 'whatever this is - we can figure it out.'

Fred was looking troubled. 'Charles - if this thing is really that big and bad, maybe we should wait for Angel. I mean if y'all couldn't stop him together …'

'So we just wait 'cause we don't know what Angel would or wouldn't do?'

'Would or wouldn't do what?' They all turned at the sound of his voice and saw Angel standing in the doorway. Cordelia ran to him and flung her arms around his neck, 'you're back!' He held her tightly, 'I'm back,' he winced with pain, 'a bit sore and tender, though…'

'Oh - right,' she backed off, looking abashed.

'It was a big fall - high building,' Angel explained, awkwardly.

'Right, but nothing broken?'

'Nothing but my pride. How's Connor?'

Cordelia told him that his son was fine, upstairs sleeping, he had not seen the flames falling from the sky. Angel nodded and began to limp towards the stairs, planning to check on his son. 'Wait - are you sure you don't need anything?' Cordelia called after him. 'Weapons check? Research? … an ice pack?'

'Let's just deal with this in the morning.'

'But …'

'In the morning…' he turned and looked at the rest of them. 'I feel like I've been hit by a tank. I hurt all over. The sky just rained fire and I really think this might be the end. So I wanna go and check on my son. I don't know what we can do about that Beast. Talking isn't going to achieve anything.'

He started to limp up the stairs again. The others watched him go - except for Kali, who, on hearing his words, pulled away from Doyle and made her way to the edge of the group, her head hung low. As she reached the doors, she pushed on the glass and went out into the courtyard. Doyle frowned, as he saw her disappear. But no one else noticed.

'I've never seen him this down after a fight,' Gunn said, still staring up the stairs to where Angel had disappeared from view.

'Nobody likes to lose,' Wesley told him, 'whatever the circumstances.' His own eyes were trained on Fred.

* * *

Kali heard the glass door open, behind her, and she twisted to look. It was Cordelia bringing her a cup of tea. 'How are you doing?' Cordelia asked, sitting down beside the demon woman. Kali just sighed - she took the mug from Cordy and smiled her thanks.

'You know,' Cordelia said, 'I hate to say this - but... Doyle's right. This isn't your fault, Kali. I know it feels that way, but this isn't happening because of you.'

'It's linked to me, though, part of me.'

'It's not a part of you. For all we know, you might be the one that's destined to stop all this. The only one that can.'

'You really think it could be that?'

There was a long pause, '...sure.' That made Kali chuckle, wryly, 'right - well, thanks for trying.'

...

Inside the lobby, Doyle narrowed his eyes as he watched Cordelia sit next to Kali and start talking to her. He didn't go out to find out what they were saying … but he stayed where he was and a kept an eye on them both.

...

Kali stared up at the night sky - the flames had stopped falling now - and held her warm drink close to her chest. 'So … what now? Angel doesn't know what to do … does he?'

'He's just sore - and grouchy from losing the fight. He'll come up with a plan,' Cordelia smiled at the thought of him, 'he's a champion.'

'What do you think he'll do?'

Cordelia wrinkled her brow and pursed her lips, as she considered the question. 'Maybe go back to Wolfram and Hart? They said this was not of their making but…'

'Who _are_ Wolfram and Hart?'

So Cordelia explained about the evil law firm located in Downtown L.A - who serviced the needs of the Senior Partners and worked to usher in the apocalypse. 'Angel has somewhat of a chequered past with one of the attorneys there - Lilah Morgan. Doyle, too, for that matter. But if anyone knows what's going on - it's likely to be her.'

Kali nodded slowly, 'huh - and she'll be able to…' But she was cut off by a black clad figure suddenly appearing out of nowhere and jumping at the two of them, it's curved sword raised and gleaming in the moonlight. Kali shrieked, as the figure threw her to the ground. Then it turned on Cordelia. As a trained warrior - with cheerleader practice honed reflexes - she immediately kicked the figure in chest. It staggered backward but came at her again, and used its superior height and weight to force her to the floor. She struggled and cried out - twisting to stay away from the sharp blade, but the black cloaked figure was too strong. She screwed her eyes tight shut, in anticipation of the pain … but then the figure was hauled away from her. Doyle - in demon face - ragged her attacker from her, headbutted it - swung a hard right and then kept on hitting until the figure gave up and fled.

This time, Cordelia closed her eyes in relief. Doyle was breathing heavily from the exertion - great ragged, heavy gasps. Then she heard his voice, low and anxious, 'are you OK Princess? Did he hurt you?'

'I'm fine,' she sat up, 'I'm…' she trailed off, as she opened her eyes and saw her ex boyfriend crouched down beside Kali, staring at her in concern. Cordelia felt all the air leave her body - like she'd been punched in the gut. He wasn't talking to her … wasn't worrying about her. He was worrying about …

'I'm OK,' Kali said, letting him help her up. She looked shaken, but not badly injured, 'he didn't hurt me too badly. Just a few cuts and scrapes.' She smiled, shyly, at Doyle, 'nothing you can't patch up with your handy first aid kit.'

Doyle lowered his brow, looking confused, 'why would I be carrying a first aid kit?' he asked. It was Kali's turn to look confused. 'You said…'

'I can patch you up,' Cordy offered, getting to her feet and trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach - as she watched Doyle care for another woman. 'If we just go inside - I can grab my stuff and …'

'What were you thinkin'?' Doyle rounded on her. She looked taken aback. 'Lettin' Kali stay out here, undefended! Don't you know how dangerous it is for her, right now?' he was yelling. 'You might not have noticed - Lord knows if it's not about your own precious self you don't give a damn - but fire rained from the sky tonight. And it's all wrapped up in Kali's destiny. She's the important one, here, and she's the one in danger. How can you be so stupid - lettin' her sit out all alone like this? What if I hadn'ta happened along?'

'Doyle, this isn't Cordy's fault. It isn't her job to babysit me,' Kali said, taking hold of his arm as she tried to talk him round. But he shook her off and continued to glare at Cordelia. 'This is so like you Cordelia, so selfish. Never thinkin' that anybody else matters.'

Cordelia's expression had run the gamut of emotions whilst Doyle had yelled at her. She had gone from confused - to hurt - and now she was mad. 'Don't talk to me like that!'

'Just get outta here,' he sounded disgusted with her. She quirked an eyebrow and made her voice hard and cold. 'Fine,' she said - and turned on her heel, leaving the two demons alone.

Kali was looking surprised - and more than a little dismayed at the way Doyle was acting. 'There was no need to go off like that,' she said. 'If anything - Cordelia helped me. That guy - whoever he was - didn't seem interested in getting to me until he had finished her off. And she was being nice to me, before,' she wrapped her arms around herself and held herself tight, looking suddenly very small and vulnerable, 'she probably won't be nice to me again, now. Not after the way you behaved towards her.'

Doyle took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes, 'look - I'm sorry, OK. I just … I just worry about y' is all - all this apocalypse stuff happenin' and us not knowin' how to protect y' from it… I guess it makes me crazy.' He reached out and placed a hand on her upper arm, gently stroking her skin. He smiled at her - a shy smile. She returned it, blushing. 'Well - I guess maybe I can live with making you crazy,' she told him.

'Yeah?' his smile deepened - his dimple coming into play, 'well, maybe I can live with you makin' me crazy too.'

'Well that's alright then.'

'Yeah…' There was a long moment where they looked into each other's eyes. Kali could feel her heart thumping erratically in her chest and the warmth of her blushes spreading across her skin. She held her breath, hoping he would kiss her … but a moment later he pulled away. 'You comin' back inside?'

'No,' she said to him, feeling that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach: disappointment, hope deflating. 'No … after tonight ... what happened. I just need some time alone. Get my head around this. Work out what it means.'

'It isn't safe for you to be alone.'

'I'll be fine.'

'No!' He reached out and this time gripped her arm, hard. The look of dismay came back to her face. She stared at him - and then tore herself from his grasp. 'You're hurting me. I'll just walk back to the motel - clear my head.'

'You can't' He reached out to grab her again, but she pushed him away. 'God - Doyle! What is your problem?' His breathing was heavy again - like he was working to control his temper. 'I'm sorry - OK? but …'

'I'll see you back at the motel,' she said, pulling herself away from him, with one last, disappointed glance, and walking off through the gates. Doyle stared after her - frustration plain on his face - as she disappeared down the street. Then he turned and followed Cordelia back inside the lobby.

* * *

Wesley had barely been home five minutes when there came a knock at the door. Lilah was at the other side, her expression was tense and worried - but slid into one of relief when she saw him. 'OK - I was just checking,' she told him.

'I'm alive.'

She came inside and wrapped her arms around him - holding him close, 'not by much, by the looks of things. I left you a couple of hundred messages.'

Wesley pulled away from her and went to close the door. 'Then you're alright?'

She was. She had slept at Wolfram and Hart - the safest place to be in the event of an apocalypse - but she had spent the night worried about him - out there, in the fire storm. The cuts and bruises on his face told her enough of the story for her to know her worry had not been misplaced. 'I bet I can make you feel better,' she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

He pulled away from her, 'this has to stop, Lilah. I can't do this anymore.'

She laughed. She had heard that a million times before - but it always ended the same way. The two of them. Broken furniture.

'It's over Lilah.'

She took a step back. 'You're serious?'

He was. After what he had experienced last night - he believed a day of reckoning was at hand.

'And you just reckon you'll toss in with the good guys?' She was getting annoyed now. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him in disbelief. He looked back at her. 'I'm choosing a side,' he said, simply.

'And the girl of your dreams just happens to be on that side. Huh - what are the odds?'

'This isn't about Fred,' he told her, 'or anyone else for that matter. It's about right and wrong.' But that just made her laugh out loud. 'And you have such a clear grip on those concepts.'

'I've made mistakes.'

'Well, you're making a big one now.' Her voice was low and earnest - but then she shook her head and went for a more conciliatory tone. She wrapped her arms around his neck, again, tilted her head and made her voice seductive, suggestive, 'I could wear the glasses again.'

'Don't embarrass yourself.'

She pulled away from him, really hurting now. All that relief she had felt when she had seen he had survived the night had vanished - and hurt and disappointment reigned in its place. But Wesley was still talking. 'There is a line, Lilah, black and white. Good and evil.'

'Funny thing about black and white,' she was really struggling to keep the hurt out of her voice - struggling not to choke on it, 'you mix it together and you get grey.' She stared at him, looking into is face - her eyes hard, her voice likewise, 'and it doesn't matter how much white you try and put back in, you're never gonna get anything but grey. And I don't see your Texas gal-pal wearing that colour.' She went for the hurt - as she walked away from him - tried to make him feel some of what she was feeling: 'Come to think of it, she prefers black.' She let the door swing shut behind her.

* * *

An hour later, Lilah was back at her desk - furious - and channelling all that rage into her work. Gavin brought her a cup of coffee and meekly put it down on the desk, in front of her, as she yelled down the phone. 'Listen, Frank, I don't care if you have to lojack the damn thing…'

Gavin held up a sugar sachet, 'sugar?' he whispered to her. She glared at him and didn't answer. 'Find that Beast,' she snapped at Frank, 'or I swear to God I'll…' she didn't have a threat handy.

'Boil you alive,' Gavin whispered.

'Shut up!' she hissed at him. 'Boil. You. Alive,' she said into the phone, slowly. Then she hung up and sighed. 'How hard can it be to find a giant, horned thing?' she asked Gavin. She took a sip of the coffee he had brought her, grimaced and then threw it away, 'or a decent cup of coffee? Why are you still here?'

He took a report out of his briefcase and held it out to her. 'Intel confirms that it was the creature that triggered the pyrotechnics last night. They're just not sure why he did it.'

'I'll tell you why he did it.' She leaned back in her swivel chair and put her hands behind her head, 'because he can. It's the 800 lb gorilla - it can do whatever it wants. I get that. But, apart from charbroiling everything in sight, it doesn't seem to have an agenda. And that makes our job tricky.'

'What job?'

'The Senior Partners want us to try a cut a deal with it.'

'You mean … you aren't the ones controlling this thing?' A new voice cut into the conversation. Gavin and Lilah turned their heads to look. 'You really don't know what's going on?' A frail looking, lilac skinned, pink haired demoness was standing in the doorway - staring at them with overlarge, fearful eyes.

'What is this? Who are you?' Lilah found new depths of annoyance. 'How did you get in here?'

'My name is Kalimania,' Kali told her - looking between the two lawyers, 'and this Beast - whyever it's here … it's coming for me. I was told … I hoped you'd have answers.'

'Get security,' Lilah said to Gavin - having no time for this. Gavin pressed the button and a security guard appeared - ready to usher the demon woman away. 'No - please - this Beast - I saw him come out of the ground. From the very place I was first brought to in L.A. Lorne read me - said my destiny was all fire and torment and end of the world stuff. And then this giant monster erupts from the ground beneath my feet and makes the sky rain fire.'

Lilah held a hand out to the security guard, stopping him. 'The jolly green demon read you?' she asked. 'You know Angel?'

Kali nodded, 'Doyle took me to see them.'

The lawyer snorted in disgust, 'the half breed,' she muttered, contemptuously. 'But if the Powers That Be are involved - we could really be onto something here. Gavin grab her.'

But as the attorney moved to grab hold of Kali and take her prisoner - all the lights suddenly dimmed and the building began to shake. Kali looked around - anxious, 'it's here,' she said.


	30. Habeas Corpses: Part Two

_Part Two_

Doyle arrived back at the motel, alone. He had sent Groo out patrolling - pointing out that a city, shaken from the events of the previous night, would be more in need of a champion than ever. But in truth - he just wanted time alone with Kali; to check she was alright. To reassure her, assuage her fears, to soothe her. And he did not want to be interrupted by a well meaning but utterly clueless third wheel.

But, when he knocked on the demon woman's door, there was no answer. He knocked again. Still nothing. Glancing around, he slipped his credit card out of his wallet and picked the lock; slipping inside before anyone noticed him. But the room was empty. As was the bathroom. There was no sign of Kali anywhere. Just to make sure - he went demon face, using his enhanced senses to see if he could pick up any sign of her. But her scent was old - she had not been back since the day before.

With panic rising inside of him, he hurried across to his own room - to check if she had maybe decided to wait for him there. But, once again, the room was silent and deserted and with no fresh signs of Kali's presence. As unlikely as he thought it was, he then ran down the stairs to the Groosalug's room. He could think of no reason why she would got to the undefeated champion's room - she seemed to have very little interest in Groo - but she must be somewhere. But again - nothing.

He was seriously panicking now. Kali should be back. She had set off before him - she should easily have beaten him home. Something must have happened to her - or she must have got lost in the big city or… he pushed his hands through his hair - making it stand wildly on end - as he considered all the things that might befall a defenceless young woman in the big, bad city. He remembered the dark figure that had attacked the two women, as they had sat outside the hotel, and cursed a long stream of swear words. If something had happened to her… and before he even had a chance to... he swore again.

He went to the front desk and asked the man on reception if Kali had been by. The man hadn't seen her since yesterday, he said, and then started talking about the rain of fire. But Doyle had no time for small talk - even apocalypse small talk. He needed to find Kali. He thanked the man and then headed back out to look for her.

* * *

'It's him,' Kali stared around, fearfully, in the dark green semi light of the office, 'The Beast - he's here.' But Lilah shook her head. This was probably just an aftershock - that sometimes made the power go out. She picked up her phone and dialled an inside line to get the front desk - but the line was dead. She looked at the security guard, 'try on your walkie.'

The security guard took out his radio and spoke into it, 'this is security 1 to front desk. Over. Come in front desk.'

There was a crackle of static and then a voice came back across the airwaves. 'This is the front desk, security 1, we're kind of - ah - _oh no. Oh my god_!'

Lilah folded her arms and looked unimpressed, 'tell him to stop whining and give us some answers.'

'Send back up,' the disembodied voice from the front desk screamed down the walkie talkie, 'Oh God - somebody please! No…' Then the radio went dead - with a glance at Lilah, the security guard turned and left the room - going to check the security systems. Kali looked at the lawyer, 'you see?' she said to her, 'this thing - it follows me.'

'And you had to bring it here?' Lilah snorted in disgust. 'Gavin,' she snapped at her fellow attorney, 'go downstairs and check it out.' He began to shake his head, but that only made Lilah smirk. 'Ask yourself this,' she said to him, 'who are you more afraid of, a giant murderous demon? Or me?'

He gave a weak, nervous smile, glanced around at the other occupants of the room and then excused himself. Lilah looked Kali up and down, scrutinising her. 'This thing is really after you?'

'I think so.'

'Why?'

'I hoped you would know,' the demoness turned and followed Gavin out of the room.

'Where are you…' Lilah began to call after her - and then just sighed, deeply. She grabbed her gun from out of her desk; loaded and cocked it - and then left her office.

* * *

One lawyer flew through the air, across the lobby, screaming. He hit the large 'Wolfram and Hart' sign and bounced off it, crashing to the floor; where he went quiet. The whole space was filled with the screams of frightened people - and every so often another would be flung across the room with such force that they did not stop until they hit the wall. They would then land, heavily, on the floor - except the floor was covered in bodies; bloodied and torn. So they would just add to the pile.

In the middle of the lobby, causing all the destruction, stood The Beast. Almost eight feet tall from hooves to horns, it towered above the mountain of bodies it was creating, using one arm to reach out and fling attorneys away from itself. In its other hand, it held a severed head.

* * *

In the gloom of the corridor, one woman stood at the elevator and pressed the button repeatedly, frantically. Behind her, a man was attempting to organise an exit; directing people to the stairwells of the fire escape. Lawyers and paralegals and secretaries pushed their way out of offices and swarmed down the hallway, crowding at the doors to the stairwell, hoping this would lead to freedom.

Kalimania pushed her way through the ocean of desperate people, swimming against the tide - not looking to escape, but looking for answers. Lilah followed on behind her. They were both getting buffeted around by the hordes of people streaming in the opposite direction - but they forged a path through, keeping going.

'What exactly is this thing?' Lilah asked, as she shoved one person out of her way and then scurried to catch up with the demon woman. 'I don't know,' Kali told her, forcing her way through the crowds, 'I've never seen anything like it. But if I had to describe it, I guess the devil himself comes pretty close.'

'Lucifer Morningstar? Please…' Lilah tutted, 'he isn't half as big a shot as he would like to think he is. The lower realms are full of big scaries - and we represent them all.' She looked around at the steady stream of panicking people, headed in the other direction, 'which is why none of this makes sense. If this guy is so bad - then we're meant to be on his team. Where are we going?'

'This thing is following me around,' Kali said, 'it's linked to me and I want to know why. If you can't give me answers …'

'You're headed straight for it,' Lilah realised. She stopped walking, letting the crowds surge around her - and watched Kali stride off into the distance. 'Well, best of luck,' she called out - and then turned and followed the other rats leaving the sinking ship.

* * *

The employees of Wolfram and Hart pushed and shoved their way downward - following the stairs down to the ground floor, hoping escape would be possible, when they reached there.

But the escape route gave out into the lobby - as the masses of lawyers and legal aids stampeded through the door, it was only to find The Beast still holding court in the middle of the lobby. The evidence of his murderous rampage was strewn all around him - and now a tonne of fresh victims had made their way directly to him. He smiled - and then ripped his way through the crowds, flinging them to the side. Once inside the stairwell, he shut the door - and began to climb, searching out his purpose for being there.

* * *

The sound of the Beast's thunderous footfalls echoed throughout the deserted hallway. It made its way, on cloven hoofs, down the now empty corridors. The offices, either side, were likewise empty - but The Beast kept on searching.

As it walked, it became aware of frantic sounds coming from behind one of the closed doors - the sounds of someone desperately searching. It stopped outside the door and cocked its head, listening. Definitely someone inside. It put its gigantic, rocky paw onto the handle - and then ripped the door open.

Gavin looked up in alarm. He had closeted himself inside a supply cupboard and was rummaging through the shelves, shoving piles of toilet rolls out of the way. The Beast growled when it saw him.

'Uh - hi,' Gavin said. The Beast reached out and grabbed the attorney by the throat. He held him high in the air, so Gavin's eyes were level with its own and stared at him for a moment - concentrating deeply on the little man he held in his hand. But, whatever The Beast was looking for, it decided that Gavin was not it - for, after a moment longer, it reached out and snapped the lawyer's neck; dropping him to the ground amidst the rolls of toilet paper. Dead.

* * *

Kali was still making her way through the corridors. She was following the corpses - which was distressing and terrifying, but the only way she knew how to track the monstrous creature whose destiny was somehow bound up with her own.

Every cell in her body - every fibre of her being - was yelling at her to turn tail and flee in the opposite direction. To get as far away as possible from The Beast. To go back to Doyle - and to wait for the team to sort the apocalypse out for her, whilst she stayed safe in the hotel, under their protection. But she ignored her every sense - and kept on following the corpses, tiptoeing around the dismembered bodies.

She had to know. It wasn't good enough to hide away, wait for the champions to do their thing and then find out later what it was all about. She needed to find out for herself. What did The Beast want? And why had it chosen her? What was so special - or so wrong - about her that she had been handed a plate load of destiny? Only The Beast could have the answers - and so, as terrified as she was, she had to find it and speak to it.

As she turned a corner - and began the lonely walk down another hallway filled with dead bodies, she suddenly heard a burst of gunfire. It was coming from a nearby room - the door was closed - and Kali hurried over to it to investigate.

...

Inside the conference room, Lilah backed away from The Beast. She fired her gun straight at it, over and over, but the bullets made no impact on the creature's stony hide - and it kept on coming towards her, bearing down. She hit against the table - and had nowhere else left to go.

The Beast reached her - and ripped the pistol from her hand. Then it grabbed her neck and pushed her down onto the conference table. She stared up at it - horrified. 'I can help you,' she rasped out. She hadn't got to be the boss of Special Projects by cowering in the face of unspeakable evil. When all else was lost, Lilah Morgan was always ready to cut a deal. Even with the devil, himself. 'Anything you want,' she offered.

But The Beast was not interested in negotiating. Instead, it plunged its forefinger straight through Lilah's skin, into her abdomen. Lilah screamed out in agony, as The Beast wriggled its finger inside of her - as if looking for something, hoping to touch something… But, as with Gavin, whatever The Beast wanted, Lilah was not it. It did not find what it was searching for, within her - and so pulled its finger out of her, making her scream once more, and then flung her from the table. She landed on the floor, gasping in pain.

The door opened - and Kali stood framed in the doorway. She stared down at Lilah, lying on the floor - bleeding, and then up at The Beast. Her eyes widened in horror, as she came face to face with the creature again, as if she had forgotten just how big, just how powerful, just how dangerous this creature truly was. All thought of speaking to it, of demanding answers, flew from her head - and she began to back away.

But The Beast bore down on her. She crashed into the opposite wall of the corridor - and turned to flee, but stumbled over a dead body. The Beast grabbed her and - wide eyed - she turned to stare at it. It was _smiling_ at her. 'Kalimania,' it said - and then threw her back towards the conference room. She smashed into the external wall and slumped to the ground. Knocked out.

* * *

Once The Beast had dispatched the lilac woman, it had turned and continued on down the hallway. Barely conscious, Lilah had seized her chance and pulled herself to her feet. She kept her hand pressed against the wound in her abdomen, applying the pressure, and staggered down the corridor, in the opposite direction to the creature. It was tough going. She was in pain, and unsteady on her feet. With her right hand clutching her injury, she used her other to brace against the wall, and pull herself along.

As she staggered along - she became aware of footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder. The Beast must have realised she was still alive - it was coming back for her; following her. She groaned in agony and hurried her pace - staggering past office after office.

As she hurried down the hallway, one of the doors suddenly opened, in front of her, and she gasped in shock as she was dragged inside a dark room. She was manhandled over to a desk, where she was sat down in the chair - and then the office door was closed behind them. She looked up at who had grabbed her - and felt confused. Her rescuer was Wesley.

She closed her eyes and slumped forward, 'uh - oh - I - I don't understand.' Maybe she was hallucinating from the blood loss. Maybe The Beast had killed her back there, and this was just the very last of her synapses crackling to a halt. Letting her see Wesley one last time.

But the watcher felt real enough. He knelt down in front of her, taking hold of her, holding her up, as she began to sway. 'Stay with me, Lilah.'

'Why are you here?' her voice was thick and slurred. She had trouble getting her words out.

'I have a man on the inside.' He looked up, as he heard the sound of metal clanging outside. 'What's that?'

'The fat lady singing,' she moaned.

'Lilah?' his voice was gentle. And he still held her in his arms.

'The building automatically shuts down under full scale attack,' she told him.

He was now looking over her wound, checking to see what damage was done - checking to see if this was fatal. 'When you say 'shuts down'...?' he asked. Outside the window, metal shutters began to slide down and lock into place - blocking out the light and leaving them in even more darkness than before.

'Windows, doors, air vents,' she slurred, 'no one gets in - or out. Oh!' she began to groan in pain, again.

The door was then knocked off its hinges - and The Beast stood there - staring at the pair of them. Wesley picked Lilah up and carried her through the adjoining door to the next office, before The Beast could reach them.

...

He carried her in his arms as he hurried down the hallways, stepping carefully over the corpses, so he didn't trip. He was aware that The Beast would be on their tail, right behind them. And he knew he could not fight the creature. Their only chance was escape. But he needed Lialh for that - and she was fading. 'Stay with me. Come on, Lilah. There must be a way out for someone like you. A back door. Something. Think.' He could hear The Beast behind them, now.

'A supply closet,' she murmured. He stopped and set her down on her feet, but kept an arm tightly wrapped around her - still holding her up. 'Round the corner,' she told him, 'what are we stopping for?'

Wesley pulled a grenade out of his bag and pulled out the pin. Then he lobbed it in the direction of The Beast and, before it had even landed, began to drag Lilah in the opposite direction - towards the supply closet. There was an explosion - and the ground rocked beneath their feet. Smoke filled the air.

'Will it kill him?' Lilah asked.

'No - it might distract him for a moment.'

They reached the supply closet - and Lilah stumbled over a body lying on the ground. She looked down and saw who it was. 'Gavin,' she breathed, 'poor bastard.' Then she pushed the door open, 'it's in here.'

She led Wesley into the closet and shut the door behind them, before beginning to rifle through the stashes of toilet paper - just as Gavin had done earlier. 'Come on, where is it?' she muttered.

'Are you sure this is the right closet?'

'Yeah - third floor and lobby.'

Wesley began to help her search - but just a moment later, Lilah found what she was looking for: a lever, which she pulled. A door behind the shelves opened up, revealing a shute.

...

The Beast reached the closet, for the second time. But, when it opened the door, no one was in there.

...

Lilah slid out of the end of the shute and landed, in a heap, in the sewer. Wesley landed beside her, a moment later - and helped her back to her feet. 'Now what?' she asked.

'Now you disappear. You get patched up and leave town.'

'Turn tail and run?' she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

'This thing won't quit until everyone at Wolfram and Hart is dead. Go underground, change your name.' He began to walk away from her, 'don't make its job easy.'

'Wesley!' she called out after him. He stopped and turned back to face her. 'What?' She opened her mouth - thinking about what she wanted to say. This was goodbye. This was... She changed her mind. 'There was a woman in there,' she told him. 'Demon chick - lilac. Said she knew Angel. Said all this - The Beast - the apocalypse - was all down to her. She's still trapped inside - I don't know is she's still alive. Third floor conference room. Not that there's a way back in but … I figure the good guys might want to know.'

Wesley nodded. He looked into her eyes for a long moment - and then turned and walked away. Lilah turned and went in the opposite direction, still clutching her midsection - and leaning against the sewer walls for support.

* * *

Gunn sat at the counter, reading a book - his pen tapping away as he read. Fred looked up from her laptop. 'Can you stop that?' she asked in exasperation. Gunn looked down at the pen, and apologised, 'it just helps me concentrate,' he said to her. She looked apologetic, 'I didn't mean to snap,' she said.

'I'm ready to crackle pop myself,' Cordelia said, from over on the round sofa - where she too was looking through an old, dusty book. 'The last 24 hours haven't exactly been normal. We're all tired.' She nodded to Lorne to make her point. The green demon was sat beside her, napping. 'We just need to make sense of this - find something…' she turned a page of her book, 'but there's nothing!'

The front door suddenly flew open, with a bang - waking Lorne up. 'I'm on it, I'm on it,' he protested - and then looked around, sheepishly. The rest of the team were looking up at the doorway, where Doyle stood - a panicked look on his face.

'Great,' Gunn sighed, 'more bad news.'

'What is it?' Angel asked, taking a few steps towards the half demon - concerned at how wild-eyed the Irishman was.

'It's Kali,' Doyle told them all, 'she's missin' - she's not back at the motel. I don't know where she could've gone - but she's out there all alone. And with this thing after her ... we need to find her.'

'Is there anyone else she knows in town? Anyone else she might turn to?' Angel asked. But Doyle shook his head. Kali knew no one but them - she came from the opposite side of the country and had only been brought to L.A a few weeks ago, by her kidnappers.

'This doesn't make any sense,' the vampire mused, 'where would she go?'

'It kinda makes sense,' Cordelia said, putting her books down - with no small relief at the distraction, 'Kali thinks everything that is happening is her fault. She was power freaked by the rain of fire. By The Beast. She thinks this all happening because of her.'

'Which is why she went to get some answers.'

They all turned towards this new voice. Wesley had come in from the courtyard and was looking around at them. 'You know where she is?' Angel asked.

'Inside Wolfram and Hart.'

'Dear sweet … what's she doin' there?'

'I believe she hoped Lilah could give her more information. But that avenue was closed to her, when The Beast itself showed up.'

'The Beast is at Wolfram and Hart? With Kali?' Doyle asked.

'Answers a lot of questions,' Gunns said, 'it's probably sitting down with them - breaking bread.'

'It's killing everything that moves,' Wesley told him.

'Oh … I've had worse news.'

'But Kali's in there with it - which means she's in danger,' Angel said. 'We need to go after her.'

'It won't be easy,' Wes warned, 'the building's locked down. There's no way out.'

'But I bet there's a way in.'

* * *

Kali, awake once more, was tiptoeing through the corridors. Lialh had disappeared. Everyone else was dead - and The Beast was nowhere in sight. She needed to find a way out of this place. She snuck down the third floor corridor - and stepped over a body. She recognised him. It was the Asian lawyer that had been in the office with Lilah. His neck had been snapped. She carried on walking.

Behind her, Gavin's eyes snapped open.


	31. Habeas Corpses: Part Three

_Part Three_

Angel had his broadsword. Gunn was scanning the weapons cabinet - The Beast had destroyed his weapon of choice, his hub cap axe, the night before - and now he felt bereft. Beside him, Doyle selected a sword of his own. Cordelia frowned, as she saw the blade in his hand. 'Why have you got that?' she asked.

He glanced down at it, 'to stab the bad guys with,' he said - slowly - as if she were stupid. A look of hurt - followed by irritation - flashed across her face, 'but you don't normally choose…' But he wasn't listening. He walked away from her and was now talking plans with Angel. Cordelia stared after him.

...

Fred was talking to Wesley - and Gunn was casting them dark glances from over by the cabinet. 'I know you run your own shop,' she was saying, 'but inside data on Wolfram and Hart - pretty amazing.'

'Uh - yeah,' Wesley looked uncomfortable. He packed some weapons into a holdall and then zipped it up, 'part of the job,' he said to her, before walking away and going to join in the discussion with Doyle and Angel. She stared after him.

'Flashlight?' Cordelia asked, appearing next to her. Fred took it off her, smiling gratefully - and then turned to stare back at the group of men. Beside her, Cordelia did exactly the same.

...

'Someone should stay here,' Angel was saying, 'mind the store.'

'Ah me!' Lorne raised his hand, 'Sergeant Stay At Home volunteering for duty, sir.'

Angel nodded, 'right - the rest of us, we need to go in quick and we need to get out quick. We're not looking for a fight. We just need to find Kali and then amscray.'

'Finding Kali is our absolute priority,' Doyle told the others - his face pensive and drawn, as he thought about her. 'No matter who we encounter there - or if we come up against The Beast … the only thing that matters is findin' Kali. Alive.'

'It'll be OK, Doyle,' Cordelia told him, 'we'll find her.' But he ignored her - and once again, she looked hurt.

'Right, everybody, let's go,' Angel said - turning to leave. But Gunn raised a hand - he had questions. 'Assuming we can even get inside the evil empire, the same big beastie's inside that spanked our asses six ways from Sunday. What's gonna be different this time?'

It was Doyle who answered - and his voice was hard and cold. 'What's different is we're not going for The Beast. We don't give a rat's ass about him. We're goin' for Kali.'

'And - did you phone ahead so the big bad understands that?'

Doyle inhaled, sharp and impatient. Angel glanced down at him. 'It's fine,' he told the others. 'Look I don't know the answers - heck I don't even know most of the questions. But Kali is in there and the Powers have directed Doyle to protect her at any cost. Which means we go in after her. Now - as far as us versus the big bad is concerned - we play it smart: You see it, you run like hell.' He turned and walked out of the hotel.

'Works for me,' Cordelia said, gripping her sword, as she followed him.

* * *

The team stood in the sewers and stared up at the point Wesley had indicated. 'This is it,' he told them, shining his electric torch upwards, 'I believe there is a door about 30 metres up.'

'You believe or you know?' Gunn asked him.

'Charles!' Fred hissed.

'I'm just saying!'

'Well I'm doing the best I…' Wesley began to retort. But Doyle cut them both of, 'will the pair of y' shut y' holes?' he snapped, 'whatever y' pissin' on about doesn't matter. We're here for Kali.'

Everybody stared at him. It was a very un-Doyle like outburst. He must care about Kali far more than they had realised. This kind of anger from him was something they had only ever seen in the past if Cordelia was in danger - and he was afraid for her. And even then he had never been quite so … rude.

'Come on,' Angel said, breaking the awkward silence, 'let's just…'

'I don't see how we're gonna get up there,' Gunn said, craning his neck upward. He couldn't even see this supposed doorway. Beside him - Angel super jumped up the chute - his hands and feet only touching the sides for the briefest moment. 'Show off,' Gunn muttered.

A moment later, Doyle morphed into his demon face - and followed Angel directly up the chute. 'Make that two showoffs,' Gunn said.

...

Angel looked surprised as Doyle landed beside him. 'What?' The Irishman asked.

'I just didn't expect...'

Doyle shook off his spikes, 'you're not the only one with special abilities, bud, or did y' forget that?'

'No ...I just …'

'It's me that's supposed to be protectin' Kali - and I can't just sit around and sidekick whilst you be the hero.'

'You always used to be happy to just sidekick.'

'Times change.'

'So do people.'

'More than you know,' Doyle replied. Angel looked at him for a long moment - but then the impatient yells coming from down the chute snapped him out of his reverie - and he dropped a rope down to the others.

* * *

The six of them entered the Wolfram and Hart lobby, and pulled to a stop as they saw the death and destruction. They shone their flashlights around the space, the beams hitting the piles of dismembered bodies. 'Oh God,' Cordelia whispered, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, in shock.

They shone their torches downward, careful not to step on any of the bodies - as they made their way through the lobby. 'I know they all worked for an evil company…' Fred said, her eyes wide and horrified, 'but this is…' Beside her Gunn started - and she wheeled round to look at him, 'what?'

'Heard something.'

Angel flashed his torch around. The place was still in darkness. He pressed the buttons on the elevator, nothing happened. 'Power's out,' he told the others, 'we need to take the stairs.'

'My source told me Kali was last seen in the third floor conference room,' Wesley told them.

'Third floor it is then,' Doyle said - headed for the doorway that led to the staircase.

'Just so I'm clear on the plan...' Gunn started to ask, still gazing around at the bloody horror show spread across the lobby.

'We get to the third floor, find Kali, get out,' Angel said. They all headed to the stairwell. Fred felt a shiver go down her spine, like something brushing past her or watching her - she gasped, and everyone turned to look. 'Sorry,' she said, 'just feeling a little goosey.'

'With good reason,' Wesley said to her. He ushered her into the stairwell.

...

Inside the staircase, it was the same story as out in the main foyer. Heaps of bodies, some of them decapitated and dismembered, were strewn around - and the team had to pick their way through, gingerly; careful not to step on them. 'All these people,' Cordelia said, staring down in utter horror, 'why?'

'Don't look, Cordy,' Angel said to her, 'we just need to get in and out. Quick and quiet. For all we know, The Beast might still be around.'

They carried on up the stairs. Behind them - unnoticed - one of the dead bodies opened its eyes.

...

They reached the third floor and left the stairwell, coming out into the darkened hallway - which was mercifully clear of dead bodies, so far. 'I don't get it,' Gunn whispered, as he padded down the corridor - alert for any sound, 'Wolfram and Hart is evil. The Big Bad is evil. Why go all terminator on your own team?'

'Maybe it just wants to eliminate the competition,' Angel suggested.

'Doesn't give us much to look forward to, does it?' Fred said quietly. Everyone glanced at each other, with a look of disquiet on their faces - all except for Doyle, who was leaving them behind; striding off around the corner, as he headed towards the conference room. 'Come on,' he called over his shoulder, 'we're not gonna avoid the big bad by standin' around yakkin' about him - we need to get Kali and get out.' The others scurried after him.

...

As they rounded the corner, and passed the supply closet, Wesley shone the beam of his torch onto the floor - expecting to see… he frowned to himself. The ground was empty. 'Wasn't Gavin just…?' he muttered to himself.

But a distant yell from Doyle told him that it was time to move along. The half demon had made it to the conference room - and wanted the others to catch up with him.

The room was empty. The furniture was flung around - and parts of the wall had fallen down, debris scattered the ground. But there was no sign of Kali amidst the rubble. 'She isn't here,' Fred said - shining her flashlight around the room.

'She might be buried under…' Cordelia gestured with her own flashlight towards the debris, 'we should dig through - check. She might be injured.'

'Cordy's right - we need to be certain,' Wesley agreed. But Angel shook his head- she wasn't here anymore, he could smell it. 'But that's good,' he said to Doyle, 'it means she survived - that's she moved on - we just need to find her.'

'Or maybe Sherlock got his facts wrong - and she never was here,' Gunn said - casting a dark glance at Wesley. But Angel disagreed again. She had been here.

Doyle morphed into his own demon face and sniffed the air - checking the vampire's words were true, for himself. 'Yeah - she's moved on,' he said, 'we should split up - we'll find her quicker that way.'

Cordelia looked disconcerted, 'you don't think it's safer if we all stick together?' she asked - glancing at Angel. Doyle looked annoyed. Angel seemed to weigh up the options. 'Our plan with The Beast is run away - not fight. We don't need numbers for that. Speed is what's important here. I guess Doyle's right - you three,' he looked across at Wes, Fred and Gunn, 'take one stairwell and sweep the place. We'll take the other,' he indicated himself, Doyle and Cordy, 'meet on the top floor. And if you see The Beast - do not engage.'

'No need to tell me that!' Gunn said, hoisting his blade over his shoulder and leading his team out to the staircase.

* * *

Angel, Doyle and Cordelia made their way up to the next floor and began to sweep that landing. Angel stepped into one office and motioned to the others to continue onward and check the others. Doyle still wore his spikes and Cordelia, her sword gripped so tightly in her hands that her knuckles were turning white, was shooting him odd glances. Eventually, Doyle sighed and turned to look at her, 'is there somethin' that you want to say?' he asked her - his tone weary, and slightly aggressive.

'I don't know what you mean.'

'Well y' keep starin' at me like I'm about to grow a second head or somethin'. Somethin's on y' mind - and it's not like you top keep your mouth shut. You usually delight us with every inane and insensitive thought that skitters across your brain - so why break the habit of a lifetime, now? Spill.'

Cordelia looked supremely offended. 'Well - I certainly wouldn't want to trouble with you my _inane thoughts_. Lord knows your own are so lofty and above the rest of us. I can't hope to compete with your towering intellect.'

'What is it?' he repeated. 'What's up?'

'It's nothing,' she continued walking down the corridor.

'Cordelia.'

'OK,' she spun round to face him. 'How come you still have your demon face on? You never just wander around all scary, ugly hedgehog - not of your own volition. You hate that face. You hate being seen that way.'

'I'm tracking Kali,' he replied. 'My senses are sharper when I use my demon assets...'

'Demon _assets_?'

But he ignored her and continued, as if she hadn't spoken. 'Nothin' is more important to me than findin' Kali right now - and my demon side means I can track her scent. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm not gonna not use my powers if they can help us out in a situation.' He walked off down the corridor, opening the next office door and checking inside.

He left Cordelia alone, stood still, frowning. Doyle always suppressed his demon side - even when it could help. She and Angel had often harangued him to use his powers - and he had refused. Because he would rather be weaker but human than stronger and demon. In the old days, his - or Cordelia's - life would have to be in direct or immediate danger before he would willingly go cactus face. The idea that Doyle would just waltz down a hallway all green and spiky just because it helped him track better was laughable. And yet here he was. Using his demon side to find his new _Princess_.

Cordelia inhaled, sharply. No - she told herself. She wasn't jealous. She had Angel, now. And it was her who had broken things off with Doyle. He had every right to move on. Every right to use pet names on other women, now. It didn't hurt to watch him move on. This was good. It was what they all needed. And he'd obviously moved on a lot - in more ways than one. He'd changed in the time they'd been apart. He used swords instead of axes, now - and was OK with being seen in demon face in public. Her Doyle - and this new version, the version Kali was getting, were like two totally different people. There was nothing to be jealous of.

But her feelings still stung, as she opened the next door and checked inside the room...

...

The three of them had now made their way all the way up to the seventh level. They crept, cautiously, down the hallway - weapons at the ready. There was a movement behind them - they all caught it out of the corner of their eye - a shadow passing across the hallway, but - when they whirled around to face it - it was gone and the hall was empty. They continued on their way.

Coming round the corner - they ran straight into someone, who screamed. Cordelia screamed as well. Both men jumped back - startled. But, then, Doyle dropped his sword, in relief, and morphed back into his human face when he saw that it was Kali; sweeping her into his arms and giving her a tight hug. 'Thank God, you're OK - we found you.' He let go of her and took a step back, gazing searchingly into her eyes, 'are you OK?' he checked. 'That Beast - it didn't hurt you - or the lawyers, they didn't try…'

'I'm fine,' she told him. She looked both embarrassed and very pleased at his fussing. Her lilac skin flamed into a deep pink, 'but how did you know I was here?'

'Long story,' Doyle told her, 'Wes has some guy on the inside. Must have seen you.'

Angel coughed - but he didn't say anything. Cordelia gave him a swift glance, and then turned back to the others, 'OK - now we have Kali, it's time to get on with amscray part of the plan. We need to get to the other three and then scuttle out butts out of here, before…'

'No' Kali interrupted her. 'I came here looking for answers. I need to know what's going on.'

'Wolfram and Hart don't have the answers,' Angel told her, 'I could smell the fear on them, when I came to visit. They're as blind as we are in this.'

'And whatever they knew - or didn't - they're all dead now,' Cordelia pointed out, 'hence why we should get with the amscraying. Before the extreme deadening happens to us, too.'

'Cordy's right,' Doyle agreed, 'let's get out of here.' He took Kali's hand to lead her away, but she resisted him. 'No!' she said again. 'If the lawyers don't know why The Beast is here - and how I link to him - then he does. This is all my fault. If Wolfram and Hart can't help me - then I need to talk to The Beast.'

'_Are. you. Insane?'_ Cordelia breathed.

'He doesn't seem like he'll be big with the sharing,' Angel said.

'But this is my fault!'

'No, Kali, love, it isn't,' Doyle told her, keeping his voice soft. He looked into her eyes, earnestly, as he spoke. 'I know you want answers - and we'll get them, I swear. But The Beast isn't gonna start monologuing his evil plans to y'. This evil's too smart for that. Too powerful. Now - we need to get out of here.' He held eye contact with her for a long time and, eventually, she nodded - finally agreeing to go along with him. He breathed a sigh of relief and took hold of her hand, once again. 'We need to find the oth -' he began to say, as he walked down the corridor - but cut himself off as he found himself face to face with Gavin. The real estate lawyer's head was at a funny angle. His neck had been snapped.

Doyle took a hasty step backward, pushing Kali behind him. Angel punched the lawyer and then threw him across the hall. Gavin hit the wall, fell to the floor and then stayed down.

'Oh my god,' Cordelia breathed, 'was he already …?'

'He was dead.' Kali said, 'I don't understand it. I saw that lawyer before. He was dead - a few floors down. How can he be…?'

'He's a zombie,' Angel said. Across the hallway, Gavin woke up and got back to his feet. He shuffled towards the group and, once more, Angel grabbed him and threw him.

'Man, I hate zombies,' Doyle groaned, 'they just keep comin' until you smash the talisman controllin' 'em. No matter how many times you kill 'em…'

'You can't kill something that's already dead,' Cordelia finished.

'And so they just keep comin'.'

'Angel? Any idea what's controlling him?' Cordelia asked. Gavin had woken up again. This time Angel kicked him in the face. 'Don't know - don't care. Let's just get out of here,' he said. He led them down the corridor - but behind them, the other dead bodies that scattered the hallway began to rise.

* * *

Across the building, Wesley, Fred and Gunn were also searching their way through the deserted offices; checking each room, one by one. Fred opened one door and shone her flashlight inside. Wes walked past her, further down the hallway. He shone the beam of his torch down onto the ground to make sure he didn't trip over any bodies, as he walked.

He stepped over one body and then pushed the next door open. The light from his torch flashed into every corner of the room - but there was no sign of Kali - or The Beast - in there. He turned back - and stopped still. 'That's odd,' he said. He pointed his flashlight down at the now empty floor. The body that had lain there just a moment ago was gone now, just as Gavin had disappeared earlier.

'What's odd?' Fred asked, shutting the door of the office she had just checked. But Wesley didn't answer.

'Shouldn't Angel be swooping in right about now?' Gunn asked. Fred looked up at him - and then her eyes widened in horror - and her heart began to pound - as she saw a very definitely dead lawyer stand up and grab hold of her boyfriend. 'Charles!' she yelled.

The zombie lawyer grabbed Gunn by the arm and bit him. Gunn turned and punched her and she staggered back - he tried to run towards Fred, but now whole swarms of zombie lawyers were waking up and crowding round them - separating them from each other.

They each struck out at their dead assailants - using their weapons to hack and slash at the oncoming lawyers. Some of the zombies fell back - but there were always more. And more were shambling their way down the hallway - ready to join in.

Gunn used his fists as well as his axe. He punched his way through the crowd until he reached Fred - and then grabbed hold of her. Wrapping his arms around her, he bundled them both through the door or the nearest office, 'Wes, come on!' he yelled at the watcher.

Wesley fought his way through and followed the pair of them into the office. Gunn slammed the door shut behind Wesley, and the three of them then leaned against it - using their backs to try and keep the hordes of undead lawyers out.

Beyond the door, the zombies tried to fight their way inside, hammering on the door. Inside the office, the three of them looked at each other in alarm.


	32. Habeas Corpses: Part Four

_Part Four_

The three of them stood with their bodies pressed against the door - hoping to barricade it shut with their combined weight. But outside, a whole horde of zombies were attempting to batter their way in. The three of them would stand no chance against the sheer numbers of the undead lawyers. 'We need to find another way out,' Gunn said. He left the other two to hold the door and went to try the adjoining door in the far wall. But it was locked. They were trapped inside.

'Charles, you're bleeding,' Fred said, her voice alarmed. She shone her torch down onto the wound on her boyfriend's arm. Gunn glanced down at the bitemark. 'Zombie broad tried to snack on me,' he told her.

'One of them bit you?' Wesley asked - his voice was alarmed - and he took a closer look at Gunn's arm. That made Gunn alarmed, 'Why? You worried I'm gonna turn into one of those mindless meatbags?'

Wesley stared at him for a second, but then shook his head. 'No,' he said, 'I don't think it works that way, here.'

Gunn wasn't sure if Wesley was telling the truth - or just trying to make him feel better. He hoped it was the first - but how could Wesley really know how this mad voodoo worked? He hadn't had time to look it up in his books. Gunn stared down at the place where the zombie had bitten into his flesh, wondering if he had been infected. He could feel Fred's eyes on him, worried - and decided to play along with Wes' words, whether the watcher meant them or not. 'Good to know,' he said. But he wasn't leaving it there - just in case Wesley was lying. 'But if I do turn into one of those things - don't let me be one for long.'

Wesley nodded. 'You'll do the same for me?'

'Oh yeah.'

There was a moment of quiet, inside the office, though the horde still raged on outside - and then - one of the zombies managed to break through the wood of the door. It's arm came smashing through, creating a hole - and the dead hand grabbed hold of Fred by her hair. She screamed - twisting to try and get loose from its hold. Gunn swung his axe and chopped the zombie's arm off. It landed on the floor of the office, with a thud, and Fred stumbled backwards.

She headed across to the other door and tried the lock again. 'Damnit!' she cried as she jiggled the handle - but it wouldn't budge. Behind her, the zombies - using the hole that had already been created - were able to beat down the door; tearing it apart and forcing their way inside.

Fred used the hilt of her sword to start ramming the lock of the other door - as Wes and Gunn got caught up in the fighting - using their blades to try and smash the skulls of the zombies. But the two human men were being forced back - as more and more zombies swarmed inside.

A moment later, Fred managed to break the door handle off the door. It clattered to the ground and she pushed the now unlocked door open, 'got it,' she called, 'come on.'

Wes pushed his way over to her, but Charles was still surrounded by zombies - struggling to get through. Fred and Wesley stood in the doorway - watching. 'Charles!' Fred called to him. He glanced over at the the pair of them, making eye contact with Wesley, 'get her out of here,' he yelled at the other man - before swinging his axe at the head of another oncoming zombie.

Wesley bundled Fred through the door and slammed it behind them - separating the two of them from the zombies … and from Gunn.

* * *

Angel and the others hid in an alcove, up on the seventh floor - waiting for Gavin to find them. He and Doyle and Cordy each gripped their weapons, tightly. Kali stood behind Doyle, who sheltered her, protectively. Her fingers gripped onto his shoulders and she peered out from round him. Her breath was short and ragged. 'Zombies?' she asked, in a whisper, 'how?'

'I don't know,' Angel's voice was grim in reply, 'but as we don't know if there's a talisman or a zombie overlord commanding them - we'll have to take them out one at a time. Remember - the only way to stop a zombie is to stop it's brain function - cut off it's head or smash in it's skull.'

Cordelia rolled her eyes, 'this isn't our first time out facing zombies, Angel, we know the score.' She gripped her sword even tighter. 'I fought my first zombies before I even graduated high school. That little real estate weasel isn't gonna stand a chance against me, now I'm trained.'

Angel nodded, 'luckily for us - zombies are slow and stupid, so we have a pretty decent chance of beating them.' He peered round the alcove - saw what was shambling towards them and ducked back behind the wall, 'unless there's hundreds of them,' he concluded.

Cordelia's lips went thin and white. 'This reminds me of the night at the teen shelter - all those zombie cops. The night Wes was shot. You remember, Doyle?'

But Doyle didn't answer her - and she narrowed her eyes at him, again.

'I remember,' Angel told her. She twisted her head to look at him, 'how? - you weren't there.'

'No - I was at the police precinct breaking the talisman that controlled them all.'

'Wait … it was _you_ that saved us that night? You're the reason they all just fell down dead. But you were all crazy about Darla, back then.'

'Well, yeah,' he shuffled his feet awkwardly, 'but I still wasn't gonna let all my best friends get killed, was I? Crazy or not.'

'Huh… I never realised.'

'As touchin' as this trip down memory lane, is,' Doyle interrupted them, he peered round the alcove and looked at the horde of undead lawyers headed their way, 'what exactly is the plan, right now?'

* * *

Trapped inside the empty office, Wesley tried to lead Fred towards the outer door - to put more space between them and the zombies. But she resisted him, twisting round in an attempt to get back to Gunn. 'we gotta go back for Charles,' she protested.

Wesley brought his hand up to her face, stroking her cheek, tenderly - and looked down into her eyes. 'Not an option,' he told her. She stared back up at him. 'We need to get you to safety,' he said. His heart was beating rapidly, in his chest, and it had nothing to do with his recent exertions or the fear of the zombies.

After a moment, he broke away from her and headed over to the large desk. He turned it on its side and dragged it to the unlocked door, which separated them from the zombies, hoping to barricade it. Then he headed for the exit door. But, once it was opened, he saw yet more zombies lumbering their way towards them. He slammed the door shut again.

'Now what,' Fred asked - her chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

'We wait - then we fight.' But he wasn't hopeful that there was a happy outcome to this. God only knew where Angel and the others were; or what had happened to Gunn by now. He and Fred may be the only ones left - and there was no way out for the two of them that he could see.

'Why are they doing this?' she asked him.

'I don't know. Maybe it's some building lockdown protocol. Or security voodoo.' It seemed quite likely - all things considered - that The Senior Partners would expect service from it's employees even in death. And that all manner of macabre magics would have been used to help protect the building. It would have been nice if Lilah had mentioned all this…

'You don't think it's something the big beast can do, do you?' Fred asked him, 'reanimate the dead?'

'Anything's possible. All I know for sure is that they want us dead.'

There was a crashing sound - as something broke through the barricade Wesley had put against the door. Fred screamed and whirled around - her sword raised - but it was only Gunn. He clambered his way over the desk and into the office and she ran to his side. 'Zombies my ass,' he said.

The other door broke down, then - and this time Angel and the others came tumbling through. 'You found Kali?' Fred said. The demoness stepped out from behind Doyle, just as Angel nodded. 'We got what we came for,' he told them, 'so let's get out of here.' He looked at the watcher, 'Wes?'

But Wesley shook his head, 'there's only two exits I know of - third floor and lobby.'

'That's too far,' Angel told him.

'Maybe we can make it,' Cordelia said, 'if we stick together in a pack - like Roman soldiers in tortoise formation?'

But Angel disagreed, 'there's too many dead men walking,' he said to her, 'we wouldn't all make it - so it's not an option. We are all getting out of this alive.'

'Well, bud, that's great to hear - but unless you know another way out…'

Angel looked around at them all - and decided to tell them what he knew. 'OK - there is another way. The white room. It's an interdimensional space here in Wolfram and Hart.'

'Sounds kinda portally,' Gunn frowned.

'Not exactly,' Angel clarified, 'more like a gateway. And there's this little girl there. Or at least - something ancient and evil that likes to pretend it's a little girl.'

'You've seen her?' Cordelia asked him, frowning. Angel sighed. 'A while ago,' he admitted. 'Back -' he glanced swiftly at Doyle and Wesley, 'back when I was searching for Connor - I met her. Spoke to her.'

'Angel - what did you do?' Her voice sounded horrified, as she tried to work out what he might have gotten from this little girl - and what she would have taken in return.

'Look - now's not the time to discuss that - OK? - It's done. The point is - she might be able to help us.'

'For a price!' Cordy retorted.

'And the price of not going to her is our lives,' Angel replied, his voice even. 'We can pay anything else. But we gotta get outta here.'

'So - fight seven floors of evil lawyer zombies or sweet talk a nasty little girl?' Gunn summed up for them, 'you know where my heart's at.'

'Gunn's right,' Doyle nodded, 'this girl - too risky. We should fight.'

'I gotta disagree,' Fred said. 'I vote for the white room - how do we get there?'

Angel looked across at Doyle, 'I know you don't wanna do this but … I'm gonna need your help.'

* * *

The gang left the office in a close knit group. The zombies were still everywhere - lumbering towards them - but they were able to move faster and they scurried over to the elevators. Angel pried the doors open and Doyle stepped inside. Kali followed him. 'Do what you can,' Angel said - and then went back out into the hallway to where the others were fending off the hordes of undead lawyers.

Slowly, Doyle took off the covering for the elevator control panel. He put his hands in his pockets and whistled when he looked at the entire mess of wires inside. 'Doyle!' he heard Angel shout from the midst of the fray.

'Workin' on it!' the Irishman called back. He stared some more.

'Can you do it?' Kali asked him, 'do you know what to do?'

'I gotta tell y' - I've never hotwired an elevator before … this is…' he reached out and touched the plastic casing of the wires and whistled again, 'I don't know what some of this is.'

'Cordelia!' they heard Angel yell from outside. A moment later, Cordy flew through the air and hit the back of the elevator. She landed on the floor and immediately picked herself up. 'Those dead sons of bitches can hit hard,' she said to Kali and Doyle. She glanced at the control panel, 'you getting somewhere?'

Doyle turned back to stare at the wires. There were a lot, he told her, and he didn't know what half of them were for. 'He hasn't done this before,' Kali told Cordelia, 'he doesn't know…'

'Lemme see that,' Cordelia pushed her way forward and took a look, herself. 'Wires are wires, Doyle - it's not like you to get stumped. We just need to find the bypass switch - the one to override the shutdown command.'

'I hear ya, but which is that?'

Cordelia stuck her head round the elevator door, and peered out where the others were still fighting. 'Fred!' she called, 'we need you.'

The other woman backed her way out of the fight and slid in between the elevator doors. 'We're looking for the bypass switch,' Cordelia told her.

The two women looked at the wiring for a moment, following where each was plugged in and where it led to. 'Here,' Fred said, after a minute, 'try this.' She disconnected a couple of wires and then she and Cordelia worked to reconnect them to different places - changing the commands the elevator was receiving. There was the sudden sound of the circuitry powering up. 'Angel!' Fred yelled.

'Guys let's go!' the three men tumbled into the lift. Angel began to punch in the code. There were a lot of numbers.

Cordelia was frowning, wrinkling her nose - And looking at Doyle. 'That was easy,' she said to him, 'why was it taking you so long?'

The half demon looked annoyed. 'Well, y'know - it's kinda hard to concentrate when there's a horde o' undead zombie monsters lookin' to eat your brains. Makes it hard to think.'

'That's funny,' she retorted, 'it tends to focus my mind.'

...

Meanwhile, Angel was still punching in the numbers. 'You're sure you remember the code?' Wesley asked him.

'Hello! Photographic memory!' The vampire replied. But - for once it seemed like his photographic memory was letting him down - because when he finished putting in the long string of numbers - nothing happened. 'What?' he demanded of the lift, his voice angry. 'Hang on - lemme try again.' He began to put the numbers in once more.

'Now would be good,' Cordelia said - staring out at where the zombies were lumbering up towards them. 'We're in an enclosed space and there are hundreds of those things.'

'Hang on,' Gunn had recognised the lead zombie, 'that's Gavin. I know that guy. Hold up.' he stepped out of the elevator - swung his axe at Gavin and chopped his head off. The real estate lawyer's body collapsed, as his head rolled along the floor. Gunn got back inside the lift and looked at the others. 'I hate seeing someone I know like that,' he explained, 'even someone I know I hate.'

The zombies were now crowded round the elevator entrance - fighting to get in, whilst the team used their blades to try and beat them back. 'No time like the present, Angel,' Wesley said.

But Angel was finished. The doors slid shut and the elevator began to move. 'Here's hoping she's in a good mood,' the vampire said - as the team were engulfed in blinding white light...

* * *

... They found themselves in the massive, empty white space that made up the white room - and stared around, blinking in the light; trying to orientate themselves. It was Fred who spotted the little girl first. Just as she had been the time Angel had visited her - several months previously, she was wearing a red frock with a white collar; knee high white socks and black, patent Mary Janes. But this time she was not sitting in her windsor chair ready to make devil's bargains with lower beings. She was lying on the floor. Dying. The Beast crouched over her.

'Oh no,' Fred gasped, in horror - as she saw the body of the child - and the massive creature who they had hoped to escape. Everyone turned to look. 'It was waitin' for us all along,' Gunn said.

'No - I don't think so,' Angel said to them, 'he wanted this - the little girl - whatever she is. It came for her.'

'You mean - it was never interested in Gavin and the others?' Cordelia asked - she was staring in horror. This was the first time she had seen The Beast. She had heard the descriptions - but this was … she wasn't even sure that Buffy would be able to fight whatever this was. The group of them stood no chance. And that little girl, whatever she really was - had been defenceless.

'They were all just collateral damage,' Angel said, 'whilst he looked for her. For the white room.'

'You don't know that,' Doyle said - never taking his eyes from The Beast, 'you don't know what it …'

'I can see the same as you,' Angel interrupted. 'I can see what's in front of me.'

Wesley was glancing around - his eyes wild, 'is there a way out of here?' he asked.

The little girl - not dead yet - rolled her head, so she was looking at the band of warriors. She pointed at them. 'The answer is among you,' she said to them. Her voice was weak. Her life force was being drained from her. Physically. As they watched - they saw The Beast place a massive paw over her body - seeming to catch the black smoke that emanated from her.

When there was no more smoke left, The Beast stood and started to make its way towards the team. The sound of its footsteps rang out like thunder claps, as it strode towards them - on it's massive hooves. The band huddled closer together - staring up into the face of the oncoming creature. Fred gripped her sword more tightly, her face set and determined. Doyle just stared into the eyes of the Beast, as it took step by thunderous step closer to them. Kali - the only one unarmed - huddled behind him. The rest of them gazed upward - ready to fight - preparing to die.

Down on the floor, the dying little girl reached her hand out and mumbled something in a strange tongue. The team stared at The Beast - but - before it could reach them - they faded away, out of the white room.

* * *

When they faded back into existence - they found themselves in the middle of the Hyperion lobby, still clutching their weapons. There was no sign of The Beast. He had been left behind at Wolfram and Hart.

Lorne was sat down on the playmat with Connor. He stared up at them in surprise.

'Home,' Angel said, looking around, 'she sent us home.'

'We're safe,' Cordelia breathed, smiling, 'that freaky little girl saved us!'

'For now.' Doyle staggered over to the stairs and sat down, dropping his sword down next to him. 'But that thing will be comin' back. It won't stop until …' he trailed off. Kali sat down beside him, 'but we're safe for now,' she tried to smile, 'that's what matters right? We're all OK. and we're all safe.'

Doyle didn't answer her. He looked down at his hands.

'Yeah,' Angel agreed with her words. 'That's what matters.' He went over to the playmat and picked up Connor, holding his son close.

'Is your arm OK?' Fred asked Gunn. He looked down at it. 'It's fine,' he told her. But Cordelia went to retrieve her first aid kit - and quietly began fixing him up, anyway. He smiled his thanks at her.

Lorne looked around at them. They seemed exhausted - and defeated - collapsed in various places around the lobby. But they had got out in one piece - and they had found Kali. This was a successful mission, surely? 'Well - hail the conquering heroes,' he said - trying to sound upbeat, 'and how the hell did you just do that?'

But no one answered him. 'It was just awful what it did to that little girl,' Fred said quietly. Lorne's face fell, 'oh - it killed a girl?'

'Not really,' Wesley sounded as exhausted as he looked. He leaned heavily against a column as he explained to Lorne what they had seen. 'Something ancient and evil dressed like a little girl.'

Gunn - patched up - looked around at is friends. Cordy had put away her first aid kit and was now sat with Angel and Connor, resting against the vampire's shoulder. They both looked weary and defeated. Doyle was sat on the steps up the front door - staring down at his hands. It seemed like he had checked out of the conversation. Kali was sat with him - her arm linked with his - but that didn't seem to be cheering him up any. He just continued to stare down at his hands. Wesley stood alone, by the pillar, his eyes closed. And Lorne sat with Fred, comforting her. This was bad. They were defeated, dejected - had no information and no way of fighting this big bad. The Beast had strolled right into Wolfram and Hart and taken out the whole of evil incorporated without breaking a sweat. Whatever it's plans were - the street fighter could not see how they could possibly stop it. And he could tell from his friends' faces that they were thinking the exact same thing. 'So,' he said to them, his voice heavy - he didn't really want to know the answer, 'what's it say about the big bad wolf if it can just stride right in and suck the energy out of evil red riding hood?'

There was a moment - where none of them spoke. And then Wesley opened his eyes, 'I don't know,' he said, he too looked around the lobby - at the exhausted and dispirited team, 'but it's going to take a force far stronger and smarter than us to defeat it.'

* * *

**A/N next episode is 'Long Day's Journey'.**


	33. Long Day's Journey: Part One

**Long Day's Journey**

_Part One_

Gwen walked out into the deserted oil field - looking around. She was waiting for a client - one that she had worked for for many years, but who had never asked to meet before now. She was jittery - and just wanted to get out of here.

'Miss Raiden,' she turned as she heard her name spoken. This must be him. His voice was deep and powerful - and accented. African - maybe Ethiopia. He wore blue robes. And even though it was the middle of the night, he wore dark sunglasses. 'Mr Ashet,' she said, 'it's an honour to finally meet you.'

'Yes - I suppose it would be.'

'I apologise for your long journey, when I can't offer better news.'

He stared at her - through his dark glasses. It was unnerving - and she squirmed beneath his hidden gaze. She wasn't changing her mind, he hoped? But she told him she was. She understood how badly he wanted those amulets. She had seen the end of days signs taking place all around her - she got why someone would want protective and powerful amulets. But - as juicy as the commission on offer was - she was turning down the job. The holy roller revelation party was, itself, the reason - she was getting the hell out. Respectfully, she was going on vacation - to Tahiti.

He took off his sunglasses and stared at her. His eyes were almost completely milky white - like a blind person - but she knew he could see her, well enough. She took a step back. 'You have no idea who I am, do you?' he asked her, 'or of the dire importance of recent events.'

'I know enough to go to Tahiti,' she replied.

'Well said. Perhaps, then, I won't kill you for your …' He stopped talking - as his chest was punched out from behind. Gwen turned to look - and saw a gigantic, horned devil stood with its fist through Mr. Ashet's torso. The devil looked at her and then - with it's other fist - smacked her away, sending her flying across the oil field. She landed - and rolled - and turned back to see what the creature was doing.

It had ripped a hole in Mr. Ashet's chest and light was now streaming from that hole. The Beast pushed the body to the ground and then began to dig around inside Ashet's chest cavity. Then it pulled out a small, metal object; shaped like a wing. It looked directly at Gwen then, and - panicked - she ripped off her glove. She flexed her hand, sending the electric charges sparking, ready to try and take this monstrous demon out. But, when she looked back around - it had vanished.

* * *

'Knock knock,' Cordelia opened the door and stepped inside Angel's room, 'I brought you some O+ broody boy - keep your strength up.'

'Just put it down there,' he said - without looking up from his sketch pad. Cordelia did as he said and then stood over him, her hands on her hips - peering over his shoulder. 'Yep,' she said, 'that's our own walking volcano of death and destruction … it sure beats sketch after obsessive sketch of Darla … but Angel, what are you doing up here?'

He glanced up at her - a look of irritation passing across his face - and then looked back at the page. 'I'm researching,' he said to her.

'No - you're drawing. I'm not saying it's not good - because it is - but it isn't getting you anywhere. You need to come downstairs. Everybody's going over the books down there - even Wes and Doyle are in on it. The team is back together. We need you.'

'I work better alone,' he replied.

She tutted and moved round to face him - she knelt down on the carpet in front of him and put her hands on his knees, staring up into his face. 'Hey, champ,' her voice was soft, 'I know that you're ... discouraged … that this thing has you beat. That there seems to be no possible way that you can ever destroy something so immensely more powerful than you could ever hope to -'

'Is there gonna be a point somewhere in here, Cordelia?' he asked, interrupting her. She shook her head and got back on track. 'I know that you're discouraged,' she repeated, 'but this is bigger than all of us. If we're gonna beat this thing - we're gonna need our leader.'

'There's nothing on this Beast, Cordelia,' he said to her, 'we can't look it up - find it in the books - 'cause it just isn't there. It killed hundreds of people that I couldn't save.'

'That isn't your fault,' she said. She reached out and stroked his face, gently, 'you can't take the blame for this … not unless you choose to hide in here and don't even try to stop it.'

* * *

Kali sat out in the courtyard. She could hear the distant wails of the police sirens tearing through the streets - headed to yet another disaster. Another death. Another fire. She shook her head, bitterly. Whatever they were headed for, the police couldn't fix it - and they couldn't help. And this was all on her.

'Hey,' Doyle appeared in the doorway. She twisted to look at him, but then a moment later - turned her back on him. He left the door - leaving it open - and went to go sit beside her. 'Kali,' his voice was soft. There was another wail of a siren - and he looked up in the direction, 'that one's close,' he said.

'It's almost constant,' she told him. She sighed, 'and it will be the same story all over the city. The emergency services must be killing themselves trying to deal with everything that's going on. But they can't help anyone. And they can't stop it.'

'It's not their job to stop it,' Doyle told her. 'They deal in human law - in human evil. This is beyond them.'

'It's beyond us, as well.'

He took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently. 'This isn't your fault, you know,' he told her - his voice still soft. He used his other hand to brush a strand of cerise hair from her face - and then cupped her cheek, gently turning her head so she was looking at him. His eyes were as soft as his voice. She stared into them. She had never seen anyone with such expressive eyes before. He could say anything with his eyes. And right now - they were bleeding sympathy and compassion and understanding. 'This Beast might be linked to you - but he isn't caused by you. And we will protect you,' he told her, 'you have to believe that.'

'You'll protect me?' she smiled - a little watery, 'sure, I trust that _you'll_ protect me - to the very end.' She sighed and glanced towards the open doorway, 'but what about the rest of them?'

'Hey - listen to me,' he made her look at him again, and stroked her cheek once more. He held eye contact and smiled, reassuringly, at her. 'Everyone here is on your side - everyone here is on the same page. We will protect you - and no one blames you, do you believe me?' He kept eye contact, 'do you?'

After a moment, she nodded her head - and he smiled more widely. 'Good,' he said - is voice still soft. 'I want you to feel safe Kali. I want you to be happy.' He stroked her face again. They were only inches apart. The tips of their noses were practically touching - and they were staring deep into each other's eyes. Kali could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She held her breath - as Doyle leaned towards her - closing the space between them. Closer closer …

'I'm tellin' you - we got to be careful where that demon chick's concerned,' Gunn's voice floated through the open door from inside the lobby.

Kali pulled back from Doyle - and smiled sadly. 'What was it you were saying about everyone being on the same page?' she asked him.

* * *

'You can't say that,' Fred looked up from her book and frowned at her boyfriend, 'Kali hasn't done anything wrong.'

'That we know of,' he countered.

'She's an innocent in all this,' Fred argued back, 'you should have seen how freaked out she was that night it rained fire. She's scared and she wants answers - 'being careful' around her isn't gonna get us anywhere.'

'Won't hurt either,' Gunn said, shrugging his shoulders, 'seems to me - wherever she goes, lava boy shows up and rains fire and torment and destruction on everyone he can get his hands on … everyone except her. And you forgetting what that creepy chick in the white room said?'

'Charles - that girl was evil - I felt it. When she said…'

'The answer is among you,' he finished the sentence for her, 'are you telling me that aint suspicious? Come on - Kali was right there in the middle of the group. Who else could creepy locks have been talkin' about?'

'Any one of us,' Wesley said - appearing in the doorway to the office. He had been inside his old sanctum, using his books to research the problem. There was nothing on The Beast - but he wasn't entirely empty handed. Literally. He carried one of his large, dusty tomes with him and had it open on the apposite page, ready to share his knowledge. 'We were all there, none of us know anymore than anybody else does. There is little reason to assume Kali is lying. She has nothing to gain. If she is in cahoots with The Beast then there is no reason she would have joined our outfit. She is here for our protection. It makes no sense that she might double cross us.'

...

Outside, Doyle smiled at Kali. 'See?' he said, 'Wesley believes you. And I'm sure Angel does too. They're the leaders. It's their opinions that count.'

...

'OK,' Gunn both looked and sounded sulky. He was glowering at Wes. 'So you think the clue from evil red riding hood is a non-starter and we're all equally likely to be the one with the answers. That puts us back at square one - 'cause I'm tellin' you now, I aint got no answers. Have you?'

'Actually,' Wesley cleared his throat. 'Nothing on The Beast, no, but I have been able to locate _this_.' He turned the book around and showed it to the others. There was a diagram on the page. It showed 5 markers spread equidistant around a curved line. Each marker had an illustration above it: the first, second and last were humanoid - though the first had wings; the fourth was some species of big cat and the middle marker was a glowing orb. Fred and Gunn took the book and examined the picture.

'My sources have already confirmed that, without the little girl, the earthly contingent of Wolfram and Hart are cut off from the Senior Partners, effectively neutralised. However, conduit was not her only function. You see the last figure in this illustration? This is my copy of Rheinhardt's compendium and it clearly depicts that same little girl. Or, at least, something ancient and evil masquerading as one. Her name is Mesektet.'

'Huh - I figured Tiffany or Brandy,' Fred said, peering at the picture. Wesley smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up in amusement at her words. His gaze lingered on Fred - noting the way her hair fell across her face in a silky curtain, as she looked down. Gunn noticed him looking - and his scowl deepened. 'So - Wolfram and Hart was only her day job?' he asked - trying to get them back on track.

'Sort of.' Wesley began to explain the significance of the little girl - and her other role. As he spoke, Doyle and Kali came back inside - to listen in. Mesektet was one of five enormously powerful beings that were linked to an embodiment of the ancient sun god, Ra, Wesley explained to them.

'That would make them totems, right?' Fred jumped to her feet and stepped closer to Wesley. Her face was lit up in excitement and she peered up at him. 'Symbolic manifestations?' Wesley was gazing back down at her- their faces were mere inches apart and both their expression were alert and engaged - mirroring back at each other. Both of them excited to be talking to somebody else whose brain worked as quickly as their own - someone who could keep up. Gunn glowered. Kali noticed the way the two of them looked at each other - and the effect it was having on Gunn - and shot him a sympathetic glance. But then she remembered that he didn't trust her and probably didn't want her commiseration. She blushed and looked at her feet, instead.

'Yes,' Wesley was agreeing, eagerly, 'totems which together form the Ra-tet.'

'Must be big,' Gunn said, shoving the compendium back at Wesley and hitting him in the stomach, 'I've never heard of them.'

Doyle had furrowed his brow and was looking between Fred and Wesley, 'back in the white room. Angel said that The Beast had come to Wolfram and Hart especially for the little girl. Are you sayin' he wanted her 'cause she's some big pals with an Egyptian Sun God? Why would that make sense? Maybe it was all about The Senior Partners, cuttin' 'em off from earth? We don't know which of her jobs The Beast thought was the important one.'

Wesley paused for a moment and then sighed. 'Doyle's right,' he said, heavily. Doyle looked pleased - but Fred looked disheartened. 'There is no reason to assume that her place in the Ra-tet was what made The Beast wish for her death,' the watcher continued. 'Not without more evidence.'

The front door opened - and Lorne walked in, looking discouraged. 'Bad news, munchkins,' he said to them, 'rumour mill has Dr. Feel Bad attached to another slice and dice yesterday. Lovely woman.' He shook his head, 'high and mighty white magic shaman type. And that didn't even faze The Beast. Tore her heart right out of her chest.'

Doyle looked across at Wesley, the question plain on his face, 'what does this mean?' he ask.

'The M.O doesn't match,' Wesley said. 'Mesektet had some sort of energy sucked from her. He didn't touch her heart.'

'So it's not linked?' Doyle said, nodding, 'just two random kills.'

'Maybe.'

'Unless…' Fred looked up. She had taken the book back off Wesley and was looking at the illustration again.

Doyle's head snapped round to look at her, 'what? What 'unless'?'

'You didn't catch her name did you, Lorne?' Fred asked the green demon, 'it wasn't Ma'at?'

Lorne looked surprised - and agreed that was the name of the victim. Fred showed the book to the others. Ma'at was the first totem of the Ra-tet; just as Mesektet was the last.

'He's taking them out one by one,' Gunn surmised.

'You sure about that?' asked Doyle. The street fighter shrugged, 'how else d'y' explain it?'

But Wesley thought it was still too little to go on. They couldn't jump to any conclusions. The Beast had killed hundreds of people with his bare hands. Once you added in the storms and fires and earthquakes, the death toll may be as high as the thousands. Fred was inclined to agree. 'It's still a coincidence,' she said, 'two points…'

'Make a line, not a pattern,' Wesley finished. They smiled at each other again. Gunn frowned. 'Still,' Wesley said - breaking eye contact with Fred at last and turning back to the others, 'with little else to go on we should look into this some more. The origins of the Ra-tet are shrouded in secrecy. No one but the totems know their true purpose. It can't hurt to follow this avenue until such a time as we find a better one.'

'Are you sure?' Doyle asked, 'you said it yourself - thousands are dead. Statistically, these two are just as random as any other.'

'Do you have any better ideas?' Wesley asked him - a slight challenge in the tone of his voice. 'Maybe someone should go and get Angel?'

Gunn shook his head, 'Mr Do -not - disturb? Nuhuh. That's what Cordy's for.'

* * *

'Angel.' He still hadn't moved - and Cordelia was getting a bit exasperated him with now. 'I swear you have the corner on teenage snits. You have to get over this fit of the sulks and get out there.'

'Get out there and do what? Get my ass kicked again? Helplessly watch as he murders a whole bunch more of innocent people. That'll help. Really. I can really make a difference.'

'You can - _God!_' She took a deep breath - willing herself to stay patient. 'I know we're all at sea. I know the big bad is bigger and badder than ever before and we haven't the first clue how to deal with it but you know what? We just have to get over it.'

Angel gave her a dark look. He got to his feet and began to pace. 'Get over it?' He said, 'get over it? Huh - why didn't I think of that?'

''Cause you're too busy brooding - doing the whole tortured artist routine.'

'No - Cordelia - that was sarcasm!'

'Oh.'

'I'm not getting over it because I can't beat this thing so I may as well just face facts.'

'And hide in your room? Ladies and Gentlemen - my champion!' She stepped closer towards him and cupped his face with her hand. 'You're the hero of the piece, Angel. You don't get to take personal days. I know it's not fair - but it's the way it is. People need you. I need you!' She stared deep into his eyes, 'and ass kicked or not - you're gonna have to suck it up and deal - 'cause things are going to hell - and you're the leader. So lead.'

'You make it sound so simple,' he said. He put his hand over her own. Her's was warm to the touch - and soft.

'Duh!' she said to him - her voice getting softer. 'I give great pep talks.'

'You really know how to rally the troops. Cheer people on.' He leaned closer.

'Well - I am a cheerleader,' she replied, leaning even closer. Their lips brushed lightly against each other - just for a second. Then Angel intensified the pressure - the kiss became more passionate. After a few seconds he broke away. He leaned in so their foreheads were touching,. 'Come and cheerlead for me whilst I try to rally the troops downstairs?'

'That's what I'm here for.' She leaned in for another kiss.

* * *

The team had already been assembled in the lobby, when Angel had finally made his way downstairs; he now paced up and down in front of them, like a general directing his troops. 'OK so far we've been - I don't wanna say demolished … beaten. And sure it's ... demoralising. But now that's all gonna change. From here on out we're on the offensive,' he told them, 'we're gonna find out this thing's weaknesses, we're gonna go in prepared. And we're gonna fight smart. It's time to take down The Beast.'

'Here here,' Cordelia cheered, giving him a small round of applause. He flashed her a shy, nervous smile and she beamed back at him. The rest of them were looking a little more underwhelmed, however.

'We're all behind you, Angel, hundred percent,' Fred said, glancing around at the others and then back at the vampire, 'but how can we be prepared when there's nothing on this thing?'

'Wes checked all his books,' Doyle said, nodding along with Fred, 'we've all looked. Zip. Nada.'

'Have you spoken to your contacts?' Angel asked him.

'No.'

'Well get on that - hit every dive bar you know. Hit every demon you know, if that's what it takes. Just find out what they know about this thing. And whilst your at it - find Groo - bring him back here, we could do with a little undefeated champion round here.'

Doyle nodded - but didn't head off, he stayed and waited for the meeting to be over. He looked at Lorne, his brow furrowed, as the green demon pointed out that The Beast really didn't seem to have any weaknesses.

'Everyone has an Achilles heel,' Angel said, tersely. Cordelia nodded along, but it was Gunn who spoke next. 'Yeah. But until we find his we're gonna be coolin' ours, 'cause we got nothin' without a new lead.'

The front door opened - and everyone turned to stare, as Gwen stepped inside and stood at the top of the steps, looking down at them.

...

'Gwen!' Angel said, sounding surprised.

'Hi there, long time no hand to hand,' she walked further into the room. Everyone continued to stare at her. She cast a glance around at the assembled team - frowned as her gaze passed over Doyle and she remembered; felt the sudden jolt of guilt and fear from her childhood - of that boy dead at her feet; then she shook it off and headed for Angel. 'So - how's things treating you?' she asked.

Angel glanced at Cordelia and then back at Gwen, 'I'm not having the best week to be honest,' he told her.

'Tell me about it,' she replied, then her expression became more serious, 'I mean really - tell me about it. Freak to freak. Is the world gonna end or what?'

'What makes you say that?' Cordelia asked, narrowing her eyes.

'You mean apart from the rain of fire the other day? How about this. I met with a client, last night - which was strange - bagged for him for six years and he never wanted to meet before. Then - as we were talking - he uhm - got his chest punched out. By a demon with a head made of rock.'

Everyone in the team exchanged alarmed glances as they heard her words, Wesley got to his feet and moved closer - to listen better.

'And when I say demon, I mean demon,' she told them, 'as in horns, cloven feet - the whole nine yards…' her eyes fell on Lorne, who had stepped up to the counter to listen to her tale. '... he wasn't wearing lamé, though,' she finished up.

Lorne smiled, 'yeah, the evil ones can't pull it off. It gets camp.'

'This client of yours, was anything removed from his body?' Wesley asked.

'Didn't see,' Gwen replied, quickly, before looking back at Angel, 'but you are, hands down, the weirdest person I know - so I figured I'd ask you what's going on.'

'Excuse me,' Fred interrupted, she was holding a book - and both she and Gunn were looking down at the open page, 'you're client didn't happen to be either a skinless sabre tooth tiger or a being made entirely out of light, did he?'

Gwen looked surprised, 'light came out of his chest, how did you know?'

'You wanted a pattern,' Gunn said to Wes - 'that makes three.'

Fred explained their finding to the others. The Beast _was_ killing the Ra-tet; Gwen's client represented the second totem - the second stage in Ra's journey across the sky. Everyone gathered around to look at the illustration - and Wesley pointed out the two others that they already knew to be dead.

'So that means there's two totems left,' Cordelia said, 'Manjet and Semkhet.'

'Are we really goin' with this, then?' Doyle asked - he looked at Wesley, 'Wes, man - what happened to the thousands of deaths this guy was responsible for? - statistically unimportant - that's what you said.'

'Three down, two to go,' Angel said, shaking his head, 'and if they are being targeted then it's for a reason - and we don't wanna find out what that is - not the hard way, anyway. We need to find them and protect them.'

'You mean bring 'em here?' Doyle checked, he furrowed his brow, 'I guess that might work. So - how we gonna go about lookin' for 'em?'

'The last sighting of Manjet was rumoured to be two years ago - in Belize,' Fred told them all, 'but Semkhet is said to live in a cave in Death Valley.'

'Semkhet it is, then,' Angel nodded.

'Uh - Angel cakes?' Lorne held up the book to show the vampire, 'that might not be so much fun - looks like Semkhet is puddy-tat to the world's scariest six year old.' The picture showed a big cat - a panther or a jaguar - stood beside the conduit to Wolfram and Hart.

'Well this is nuts,' Doyle said - his eyebrows hitting the top of his forehead, 'we can't bring a jungle cat to the hotel! It'll … maul us into a million pieces or whatnot.'

'Doyle's right,' Cordelia agreed, 'this could be dangerous.'

'I'll take Gwen,' Angel told her. Gwen looked less than pleased by this announcement. 'You guys … get the tranq gun ready.'

'You're just gonna bundle Semkhet into the back of your Plymouth?' Doyle was sounding increasingly incredulous.

'Gwen - you can keep zapping him, right?' Angel asked, looking at her. She looked even less pleased, 'I guess.'

'Great!' the vampire smiled - 'then it's settled. We'll be back in …' he checked his watch, 'eight hours. Have that tranq gun ready.' He and Gwen left the hotel - the rest of them watching after them, not too sure of the sense in Angel's plan.

'I know he wanted action,' Lorne said, 'to fight The Beast smart - but I get the feeling that this plan might be out of the frying pan and into the fire.'

Doyle looked across at Cordelia, 'you still gonna wanna be with him, Cordelia? When that big cat rips his pretty face off?'

Cordelia frowned, but didn't reply.

* * *

Four hours - and one long drive into the desert - later, Angel and Gwen arrived at the cave that was said to be the last known hiding place of the fourth member of the Ra-tet. It was dark inside, but the cave had been lit by candles - which flickered in the gloom. Angel drew his sword. Gwen glanced down at it. 'I thought we were here to protect this thing,' she hissed.

'We are. Unless it's evil. Which, if it is - we prevent The Beast from killing it by killing it ourselves.' He stumbled - and looked down, only to find he had tripped over the body of Semkhet. The totem's body had been ripped apart - and entrails and blood were spread around the cave. 'So much for protecting it,' Gwen said, looking sickened.

'It looks like it was ripped apart,' Angel said to her, 'charred at the edges. This was definitely our guy. The Beast is systematically executing these totems. I just don't know why.'

'I do.'

They both looked up. A small, nervous looking man, in a straw hat and a Hawaiian shirt, stepped out of the gloom. 'It's gonna turn out the sun.'


	34. Long Day's Journey: Part Two

_Part Two_

Angel pointed his sword at the small man, 'what are you doing here?' he demanded.

'Standing in the remains of my fallen brethren,' the little man replied, 'trying not to have an anxiety attack.'

'Got a name?'

'I am Manjet, sacred guardian of the Shen, keeper of the orb of Ma'at and devotee of light. Off hours, I like Manny.'

Angel looked confused, This badly dressed, unprepossessing man was the last totem of the Ra-tet? Wasn't he supposed to be in Belize?

'I was,' Manny shrugged, 'until I heard Mesektet got whacked. Never liked that chick - evil right the way down to her Mary Janes. But … family, what you gonna do?'

'And what you said before,' Angel lowered his sword, as he spoke, 'The Beast is gonna turn out the sun - was that …'

'Exactly what I meant,' Manny told him. 'The Beast you're talking about - he's looking to put an end to daylight. Permanently.' Once the totems were dead - The Beast would be able to create eternal nightfall. The sun wouldn't disappear, as such, but it would be blotted out, bringing permanent darkness to L.A - and then southern California, North America - spreading on and on until it achieved global blackout. Not that it was as simple as just killing the totems, there was a ritual to perform - props were needed. It wouldn't be easy. But this Beast seemed determined. It had already killed four out of the five - Manny couldn't see that it would stop until it had succeeded. And once it had - well - all the vamps, the creepies, the crawlies, the things that go bump in the night - they would be going bump all day long as well.

'The world becomes a demon's playground,' Angel said, thoughtfully, 'we gotta stop him.'

Manny nodded. 'You sure do - well good luck with that.' He turned to leave - but Angel called out and he turned back. He couldn't just walk off - he needed to stay with them - so they could protect him.

Manny looked them up and down, 'Super hunk and Spandexia? This thing takes out Mesektet and _you two _are gonna protect me?'

Gwen and Angel looked at each other, uncomfortably. 'I don't see anyone else lined up for the job,' he said.

* * *

They arrived back in the lobby, a reluctant Manny in tow, to find the others still researching. The Groosalug had arrived back, since Angel had left, and was now practising swordplay in the centre of the room whilst the others sat and read their books. Cordelia kept shooting him annoyed glances. She looked delighted when Angel walked back in, 'you're not dead!'

'No, any movement from The Beast whilst we were away?'

'Not a peep,' Gunn told him, 'we're just wasting time trying to find ways to kill him. Which - by the way - there aren't any.'

Fred was peering at Manny, her nose wrinkled. She had been expecting some kind of jaguar to be led into the room - this … wasn't a big cat. It was a short man. Angel made the introductions, 'guys, I'd like you to meet Manny, the last totem of the Ra-tet.'

It was Wesley's turn to wrinkle his nose, 'this … is a being of supreme power?'

'What happened to the second to last one?' Lorne asked, also eyeing Manny's shirt and hat with distaste and not a little suspicion.

'Somebody already ripped out the toy surprise,' Gwen told them succinctly. Cordy, Fred and Kali all looked horrified, 'The Beast tore that big - cat - totem to pieces?' Kali asked. She shuddered and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as she imagined what it was The Beast might want to do to her if it ever got close enough.

'It really really did,' Angel agreed, 'but we got good news - we found out what The Beast's plan is.'

'Which is ..?' Gunn asked. It was Manny who supplied the answer, 'to blot out the sun for all eternity. You guys got a john?' Everyone stared at him in disbelief, as Angel indicated the way to the bathroom - Manny picked up a couple of newspapers from the hotel counter and tucked them under his arm, before heading in the direction Angel had pointed. Everyone watched him go. Once he was out of sight, their heads snapped back round and they focused on Angel, once more. 'Why did the small, yucky man say that?' Cordelia asked, 'he's joking right?' But he was forced to answer in the negative. There was a ritual, using the members of the Ra-tet, which would block out the sun forever.

'As evil plans go,' Wesley said, sitting down, heavily, 'it doesn't suck.'

'He's killed four of the five totems already,' Angel said, 'I figure, we keep Manny safe, the lights stay on long enough and we find a way to defeat this thing.'

'So - what do you suggest?' Doyle asked, 'what's the grand, master plan for protectin' the last totem … 'cause if The Beast figures it out…'

'We hide him,' Fred suggested, but then she looked troubled, 'but where? We need a small, controlled space.'

'Secured perimeter, guards on duty at all times,' Angel nodded.

'So - those of us who have had our assess well and truly kicked by The Beast are the ones that are goin' to be guardin' against him?' Doyle quirked an eyebrow, 'well … that's good to know.'

'You got a better idea?' Angel asked, sounding annoyed. Cordelia stepped between them, 'guys,' there was a note of warning in her voice, 'now is not the time to squabble with each other. I'll bang both your heads together if you don't quit it. Angel's right - there's no one to protect the yucky man but us…' Angel smiled, smugly. But Cordelia wasn't finished, '- and Doyle's right … we aren't enough.' Doyle snorted in derision. 'So…' Cordy continued, frowning in the direction of her ex boyfriend, 'the place to hide him is gonna be the key. That's gotta do most of the work of protecting him.'

'So … any suggestions?' Doyle asked her. She frowned again - drawing a blank.

'Kitchen's got a meat locker,' Gunn suggested. This time it was Wesley who raised the objections. 'Brilliant. Let's store the one thing that will stave off perpetual darkness in the home of the only people we're sure the demon knows.'

'You know what, Einstein? You got any better ideas?'

Wesley got back to his feet to stare down Gunn. the two men glared at each other. 'Gimme time,' the British man snapped.

'I know a place.' Gwen interrupted, raising a hand. Gunn and Wesley both turned to look at her, Doyle fixed her with an inquisitive gaze. She stared around at all the people looking at her, expectantly - and decided she had better offer more. 'Well - I have a safe room. You know? Like a panic room. In my study.'

'You have your own study?' Cordelia asked, sounding surprised.

'The axis of pythia was worth 33 million,' Angel whispered to her, 'I gave it back to her once we'd found Connor.'

'_What?_ Doyle stole that fair and square. Why didn't we fence it?'

'We're the good guys, Cordelia.'

'So what's she?'

'I'm a thief,' Gwen reminded them, 'which means my home is hidden, private - and secure. No one will find us there unless they already know where to look, I swear.'

'And does The Beast know where to look?' Wesley asked her, 'you met him already, saw him murder the Ra-tet.'

'But he doesn't know I know you guys - or that I know what the Ra-tet is. Rock head barely paid attention to me - except to send me flying. Can't think of a reason in the world he'd come looking for little ol' me, cherry.'

'That's good,' Angel was nodding, 'so it's settled - we take Manny to Gwen's - protect him from there.'

Just then, Manny returned from the bathroom. 'Is that a plan I hear forming?' he asked. Gwen nodded and told him that she would take him to her place. It was in an abandoned tenement in Downtown. It looked seriously down market - no one would look for a high class thief, or a being of supreme power, there. 'But the inside's tricked out,' she told him, 'you'll be safe as houses.'

'Right - so now all we need to do is sort out who's on guard duty and who's on research duty,' Angel said, looking around at his team, 'Wes, Fred, you guys stay here. Lorne - help 'em out? And look after Connor. Doyle -' he turned to the Irishman. But Doyle was already on his feet and pulling on his jacket, 'listen, bud,' he said, 'I've had an idea - there's a guy I know. Mage. Powerful. Could help me out with the whole Rat-tet thing. Something a bit more permanent than stashin' Manny in a cupboard until you guys figure out how to kill The Beast.'

'OK ... good, you get on that.'

Doyle nodded and turned to leave. But as he reached the door he felt a hand reach out and touch his arm. He turned back. Kali was stood there - her eyes were wide and fearful. 'What is it?' he asked her.

'Can I come with you?' she asked. He paused for a moment - looking surprised - and then shook his head. 'No - it's too dangerous.'

'But…'

'Stay here with Wes and the others.'

Se glanced back at the team in the lobby and then lowered her voice, 'I don't want to stay here without you,' she whispered. 'The way they look at me … they blame me for this..'

'They don't…'

'Don't leave me here,' she begged. Doyle sighed and seemed to relent. She smiled - but her smile faded when Doyle called across to the Groosalug, 'Groo? Take Kali back to the motel would you? And protect her - with your life.'

'As you wish Noble Majesty,' the Groosalug said, coming over to them. He took Kalimania by the arm and led her out of the hotel - she shot an annoyed glance back at Doyle, who shrugged. She couldn't come with him, she didn't want to stay - this was the compromise. He turned back to the others, 'I'll be back when it's done,' he said - and then left the hotel.

Angel, Gunn and Cordy grabbed their weapons and followed Gwen - as she led them and Manny to her safehouse.

* * *

She led them up a staircase in a derelict tenement. Cordelia's nose was wrinkling, 'are you sure this is the right one?' she asked, 'I mean - one deadbeat tenement looks pretty much like the rest of 'em. Seems like you might have maybe - I don't know - cleared away the cardboard boxes, put a fresh lick of paint over the peeling plaster - done something about the faint whiff of dead people?'

'It's actually not that faint,' Angel said, she looked at him, 'vampire sense of smell,' he explained. She grinned, 'boy am I glad to be missing that one right about now.'

'Stench of death aside, I'd rather be here than back at the hotel,' Gunn said '- ploughing through all them annoying books about symbolic manifestos and all that.'

'Never trust the books or the bookies, kid,' Manny said to him. He was puffing a little as they climbed the many flights of dank stairs, 'Real juju takes place on the QT. That's why you can't find this Beast, he's too powerful. I mean - taking out the Ra-tet…'

'Speaking of,' Gunn interrupted him, 'aint you Tet folks meant to be all mighty and colossal?'

'The midday totem is man,' Manny explained. He was the neutral totem - the potential of every human soul. Cordelia looked surprised - her wrinkled nose straightening, for a moment, as she raised an eyebrow, 'so you're just a regular guy, then?' she asked him.

'There's more to me than meets the eye,' he told her, 'for example, I'm immortal. Unless I'm ritually murdered of course.' They reached the top landing - and a heavy looking, metal door.

'Too bad you came here, then,' Cordelia said, looking around in distaste at the dark and derelict stairwell - just as Gwen placed her bare hand in the lock and and zapped it - ''cause this seems just the place for a ritual murder. Dark and skanky and…'

She stepped through the doorway and her jaw dropped open, '...absolutely beautiful,' she turned to stare around the room; taking in the walnut wood panelling, the leather seats and the very expensive looking knicknacks. 'Is that a silk pile Persian rug?'

'Kashan - I think,' Gwen told her, 'glad you like it.'

'You have amazing taste! This is gorgeous,' she wandered through the room looking at the ornaments and the drapes with appreciation and a little envy.

'Thanks … my butler's already in Tahiti, so we're on our own here. I'll hit the kitchen for supplies, later; if I can just, well, find the kitchen.' She closed the door behind her and locked it again - then crossed the room, heading for an internal doorway.

Cordelia's eyes were round and wide. She grabbed hold of Angel, 'I'm gonna kill you for handing back that Axis thingy,' she hissed, 'this could have been us!'

'I dunno, Cordy,' he shuffled his feet uncomfortably, 'I like the hotel - it's big, roomy...' he listed

'Parts of it are falling down,' she continued his list for him 'and it has a tendency to get infested with demonic creatures.'

'Yeah - home.'

She snorted with disgust - and followed Gwen through to the next room. It was decked out like a study. There was large mahogany desk; a leather chair by an elaborate fireplace and bookshelves lining the walls. Gwen crossed to one, scanned along the shelf directly at eye level and then pulled one book out, tilting it on the shelf. A panel in the wall slid back revealing a solid steel door. 'Never pass up a good cliché,' she said to them all, grinning. She then touched the door with her palm and and once more zapped the lock. The door swung open - revealing the small cell inside. '12 inches of solid steel,' she told them, 'it's own ventilation system,' she glanced at Manny, 'you should be safe in here.'

He walked into the panic room and then turned to face them, 'don't worry - I aint expecting any miracles.'

'So - guard duty,' Gwen said, to Angel - ignoring Manny's pessimism, 'what do you reckon - me and you first shift?'

'Doesn't it make sense to split the superpowers one per shift?' Cordy asked, 'don't get me wrong - me and Gunn can throw down with the best of 'em … but, if lava boy shows up, we might want a little supernatural on our side.'

'Makes sense to me,' Gunn nodded.

'Alright then, I'll take Denzel,' Gwen said, throwing Gunn an appreciative look. 'Actually it's Gunn,' he corrected her, 'not that I mind the freakishly accurate comparison…' Cordelia snorted in derision - Gunn looked at her. 'I didn't say anything,' she shook her head. 'Not me - nuh uh.'

'Right, four hours on four hours off,' Angel said - getting down to business, 'get as much sleep as you can whilst off duty. We've got a long few days ahead of us.' He and Cordelia left the room - and Gwen shut and locked the steel door, trapping Manny inside the panic room. She and Gunn settled down to take the first shift.

* * *

'Yeah, yeah, I'm coming,' a slightly overweight man grumbled to himself, as he made his way towards the door. Someone was hammering on it. 'Don't get your panties in a bunch.' He opened the door and peered out at the person who stood on his threshold - his eyes widened in surprise. 'Doyle? What brings you back here?'

The Irishman didn't answer and instead just pushed past him and forced his way into the room beyond. The chubby man shut the door and followed on, blinking in surprise, 'uh - you didn't have a vision did you? I'm not in any more trouble am I?'

'No trouble, Maury,' Doyle turned back to face him - and scanned him up and down; the chubby man pulled his dressing gown around him, tighter. 'Not if you help me out,' Doyle said.

'O - OK… how can I…?'

'I need your help - something big is going on. I need your magic.'

'Big? Doyle - ' the mage went and got his glasses and put them on, so he could see the small half demon better. What he saw made him frown. 'Look - I helped you out already, that time I teleported you into the vault at Chandler's auction house? That was big mojo - and against the law. We're even now. Case closed. Business finished.'

'Even?' Doyle stepped up closer, he stared into the mage's eyes for a long moment - the mage held his breath - but then Doyle turned away, and began to peruse the book shelf. 'That was a big Jarvlen flesh eater you'd conjured, Maury.' His voice was conversational - but there was a slight edge to it. A hint of menace that suggested Doyle would not be taking no for an answer. 'Couldda eaten you. Couldda killed me and my partner.' His fingers traced along the spines of the book, as if he was casually reading them - but there was still that edge... 'It was dangerous stuff.'

'And I paid you back,' the mage backed away a little - and squinted down at the Irishman, 'are you OK?' he asked him, 'you seem…'

'You might not have noticed, bud - but there's an apocalypse goin' on,' he snatched his fingertips away from the books and turned back to the chubby wizard, '- I got a lot on my plate, right now. And I need your help. Now,' he narrowed his eyes, ' - I'd hate to have to go runnin' to the council o' warlock elders and tell 'em you were practicin' demon raisin'...' he left the threat dangling.

'OK, OK,' the chubby wizard - Maury - held his hands up in surrender, 'there's no need for that. We can work something out.' He took a deep breath. If truth be known he just wanted to get this man out of his place. Maybe it was the stress of Armageddon - but there was a glint in Doyle's eye that he hadn't seen there before, and it didn't seem to bode well for himself. He just wanted to get him out of the way.

'Just one tiny favour, and I'll get out of your hair…' Doyle's eyes raked the wizard's comb over as he spoke. The mage's hand flew to his scalp and flattened the scant strands of hair, defensively. 'What do you need?' he asked. Doyle smiled.

* * *

'Angel?' Cordelia murmured.

'Mmhhh?'

'Are you awake?'

'Mmmh…'

He didn't sound overly awake. They lay on the bed together, in Gwen's spare room, their bodies curled around each other. Angel had his arm around Cordelia, holding her - and she traced across his skin with her fingertips. 'It's nearly time for us to take over guard duty,' she whispered.

'mmmhhh.'

'Angel … what if this really is the end?'

'It's not the end Cordelia - we'll stop it.'

'How?'

'Wes and Fred are working on that,' his speech was still thick and slurred with sleep. 'They'll come through - they always do.'

'And until then?'

'We protect Manny.'

She rolled over so she was facing him, and brought her hand up - stroking his face with her index finger. 'You're sure this isn't the end?'

'I'm sure of it. This isn't _the_ apocalypse it's just … _a_ apocalypse. We'll sort this.'

'What if it is _the_ apocalypse?' she asked him, 'what if it's the one you're supposed to play a pivotal role in?'

'The Shanshu prophecy? Now?' He rolled away from her and lay on his back - staring up at the ceiling, as he considered the possibilities. Cordelia propped herself up on her elbow so she could squint down at him, 'what would that mean? For the business?... for us?'

He rolled back towards her and pulled her down so she was held against his chest, 'one day at a time, Cordy, OK? We concentrate on protecting Manny and killing this Beast thing and then - then we can take a breather and worry about my place in prophecy. But we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves.' He dropped a kiss on her forehead, 'let's not get ahead of ourselves,' he repeated, though his voice and eyes were troubled. He looked down at where she rested against him, 'is it time for us to take over guard duty yet?' he asked.

'We have a few more minutes.'

'Then you should try and get more sleep.'

* * *

'So then, after the second gardener and the fourth nanny, I got sent to the academy,' Gwen said. She was pacing the study whilst Gunn sat in the chair beside the fireplace. She looked down at him. He was staring, blankly, at the floor. 'And something tells me my origin story isn't enough to fascinate you,' she said.

His head snapped up and his eyes shifted focus - coming to land on her, instead, 'oh - no,' he apologised, 'it is. I was just - just thinking.'

She bit her lip and scrutinised him for a moment, 'about that English guy?' she asked him. He looked surprised. 'I saw the way he looked at your girl,' she explained, 'a thief is a master of body language.'

'He starts talking with his body, he's gonna have a serious problem.'

'And now you're here - maybe for days. And they're all the way over there … working together. It's making you worry. Problem is - it isn't about the guy, it's about the girl.'

'Fred?' Gunn looked confused. But Gwen nodded. 'She's the one that owes you something, she's the one that's made a choice to be with you. That guy can put all the moves he wants on her - he won't get anywhere if she doesn't want him to. If she wants to be with you - his puppy dog eyes and school boy crush means nothing. So - the question is - do you trust she wants to be with you?'

'I…' he looked annoyed at the question, and then confused - and then annoyed again. Gwen smiled, as she watched the emotions chase across his face. 'Anyway - it's not any of my business,' she said, letting him off the hook. 'You and she will figure it out … or you won't.'

'I…' he looked confused again - but was saved the need to come up with a response by Cordelia and Angel coming into the room. 'How's Manny?' Angel asked them.

Gunn heaved himself to his feet, 'gave him some magazines about an hour ago to keep him occupied, he's fine.' He and Gwen left the room - headed for some downtime - and Angel and Cordy took over the watch.

...

Cordelia sat in Gunn's abandoned chair and placed her coffee cup on the table, next to her. 'OK - so what if we manage to protect Manny - and fight The Beast - and avert the apocalypse - and you become human. What then?'

'Cordelia…' he took another chair and slumped into it, 'I really don't think we need to be discussing this yet.'

'We've got four hours - we've got nothing to do but discuss this. We should make plans.'

'For what?' he asked - sounding exasperated, 'I don't think this is the big blackout - goodbye Piccadilly, farewell Leicester square. I think this is a middle of the road, happens every year, kinda apocalypse.'

'You mean like that time you tried to get that demon to suck the entire world into hell?'

'Yes, Cordelia - thank you - let's bring that up as often as possible.'

'Well - you did.'

'And Buffy stopped me. Just like I'll stop this.'

'And then you might get made human as a big shiny reward,' Cordelia pointed out. Angel rolled his eyes. 'Will you go back to her?' Her voice was small, as she asked this last question.

'Who? _What?_ Who?'

She took a deep breath - and stared solidly at the steel door, refusing to look at Angel. 'To Buffy. If you become human. If you're not cursed anymore.' Her voice went even quieter, 'would you go back to her?'

'Cordelia…' he leaned forward in his chair. She finally turned to look at him - and he saw that there were tears blurring in her eyes. 'Hey,' he got to his feet and went to crouch down in front of her, he took both her hands in his own and smiled up at her - holding eye contact. 'You know Buffy will always be a part of me - I've never tried to hide that. But we're in very different places now. Both of us. I have a life of my own - the hotel, the team, Connor - you. And her … I don't even know what's going on with her right now, if there's a guy in her life - someone special. And I don't care. You're not second best, Cordy - you're not a consolation prize. Do you believe me?'

'You'll always love Buffy…'

'And you'll always love Doyle. But people move on, and change. And grow - together. And that's what we've done. This is what I want. _You_ are what I want. And no prophecy is gonna change that. Believe me?'

After a moment, she nodded, and he leaned forward and kissed her. 'Good,' he said, pulling away, 'because we are just starting out and I know our best times are ahead of us.' He kissed her again. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and twisting her fingers into his hair. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her out of the chair, so she was down on the floor with him - lying entangled together on the Persian rug. 'Wow,' she surfaced, gasping for breath ,'you really _don't_ need to breathe do you?'

'I really don't.'

She grinned, 'it's kinda neat.' She kissed him again. He rolled her so she was on her back and he was on top of her and then began to unbutton her blouse, kissing her neck and then going lower and lower and lower… 'wait,' she gasped, struggling to sit up.

'What?'

'Apocalypse? Hell Beastie? The end is nigh? Now isn't the time to risk bringing out Angelus. We should…' she kissed him again, and then pulled away, 'I mean we gotta…' he kissed her again, 'we gotta stop,' she told him.

'Right.' He rolled off her. 'The curse. Gotta stop.'

'Besides - we are meant to be on guard duty. What would the others say if Manny got whacked whilst we were rolling in the hay?'

'Yeah - right - guard duty.'

'Sorry.' She scrambled back in her chair and picked up her coffee. 'But it's for the best.'

'Right … for the best. Sure thing.' He went back to his own chair - and picked up his own mug. 'Guard duty. Four hours. Let's … while away the time.'

'I'm whiling.'

'Yeah.'

...

It came as something of a relief when, four awkward hours later, Gunn and Gwen came back in to relieve them of guard duty. 'How did it go?' Gwen asked.

'Haven't heard a peep from Manny,' Angel said, 'and we sat her and watched the door the whole time. Yes sir, four hours of nothing but door watching.'

Gwen gave him a funny look, 'good - glad you've got the basics of _guard duty_ down.'

'And - dumb question - but no sign of The Beast?' Gunn asked.

'The fact that we haven't been pummelled into a bloody pulp should answer that one for you, Gunn,' Cordy said.

'Right.'

'Well - you guys head off and bunk down - I'll just check Manny doesn't need anything,' Gwen said. She zapped the lock with her electrical force and the door swung open. As Angel and Cordy left the room, they heard Gwen begin to scream.


	35. Long day's Journey: Part Three

_Part Three_

Gwen paced the study - she kept pushing her hair out of her face, her actions frantic and agitated. Then she would bring her hands up to her face - her fingertips steepled together, her mouth and nose covered. 'Oh god,' she murmured, before pushing her hands upward and through her hair again.

Angel, Cordelia and Gunn stood inside the panic room - staring around at the blood stained walls and the torn apart pieces of Manny. 'It got him,' Angel said - his voice low - shocked.

'You think?' Cordelia hid her fright behind sarcasm.

'So was that one of Manny's powers?' they heard Gwen say, in a wobbly voice. Cordelia and Gunn left the panic room and headed out to her. She looked up at them, 'extra blood and guts? 'Cause I mean - that's a lot of blood and guts in there. No way all of that Stephen King came out of a normal guy.'

'Is it your first time seeing a body ripped to shreds?' Cordelia asked, sympathetically. Gwen looked at her in horrified amazement, 'isn't it your first time?'

'No.'

'Oh.'

'It takes some getting used to. But you do … get used to it.'

Angel stepped back into the study, then, he held something in his hand and wore a grim expression on his face. 'It was The Beast,' he told them, 'it was looking for something Manny had.'

'How do you know?' Gunn asked.

Angel held up Manny's straw hat - the top of it had been punched through - leaving a gaping hole. 'Oh, it emptied out his head to find it.'

'Manny said he was an orb keeper,' Gwen remembered, 'maybe he kept an orb.'

'In his head?' Cordelia sounded doubtful - but Angel was narrowing his eyes and looking at Gwen closely, 'hang on a minute,' he said. 'Semkhet - the demon in the cave... You said someone had already pulled out the toy surprise.'

'Did I?' Gwen tried to sound unimpressed. She was beginning to latch on to what might be going on here - and she wanted no part of it. But unfortunately, Angel seemed to be latching on, too - which meant she might get dragged in even further.

'The Beast is pulling things out of these totems,' Angel said. Gunn turned to look at Gwen, 'and you knew that?'

'Is there something you're not telling me, Gwen?' Angel asked walking up to her. She stared up at him - and then sighed in exasperation. 'Fine,' she snapped, 'my client - The Beast grabbed something out of him too - a little metal boxy thing.'

'Why didn't you tell us before now?' Cordelia asked, 'it could have helped.'

'I don't know. I thought the box might be worth something. Look, the apocalypse was coming, there was a giant, killer demon. I panicked. And oh, by the way, I'm still a thief and, as a general rule, we don't share information!'

The three team members looked at each other - this information could have been really useful before! But it was too late for recriminations now, they had to work with what they had. 'OK - so this cave totem - you think The Beast went treasure hunting inside him as well?' Gunn asked.

'It's a definite possibility,' Angel nodded.

'Was the big cat all - shredded - as well?' Cordy asked, wrinkling her nose. Angel nodded again, 'pretty much.'

'And The Beast was ripping up the bodies at Wolfram and Hart like they were made of paper - until he got to the creepy child in the Mary Janes… like maybe it wasn't sure who inside that building was the totem? So it checked inside everyone? I think we have a definite working theory going on,' Cordy said. 'But what doesn't make any sense is the part where the Big Bad Beastie somehow found out where we were hiding Manny, broke in and then snuck through this unreasonably large apartment on the tippy toes of his cloven hooves - past me and Angel - whacked Manny - and then left again without being heard, seen or leaving any sign of a disturbance … besides the entrails.'

'Maybe it wasn't on cloven hooves?' Gunn suggested, they all looked at him and he shrugged. 'The answer is among you? I can't be the only one thinking it.'

'Kali,' Angel asked, furrowing his brow, 'but why…how?'

'She knew we were going to Gwen's,' Cordelia pointed out, 'and she isn't at the hotel with the others - Doyle sent her back to their place,' she gasped, 'she made a big song and dance about not wanting to stay with people who didn't trust her. Just to get out of there. So now she's away from the team - away from Doyle's watchful eye - and free to murder whoever she chooses.' Then her face suddenly wrinkled with confusion, 'but - wait, unless she's been hiding powers of invisibility, it still doesn't explain how she got in here. She's lilac with bright pink hair - chick kinda stands out.'

'Without being seen or heard?' Gwen said thoughtfully, she suddenly snapped her fingers, 'security cameras!' she announced - and headed out of the study. The others all looked at each other - and then followed along after.

...

She led them back through into the ante room - where they had first entered the apartment - and then through a side door, into a small room which had monitors set up - linked to cameras showing the inside of every room in the apartment. 'All we gotta do is rewind the tapes,' she said - sitting in front of the monitor which showed the study, and tapping commands into the keyboard.

Angel pulled Gunn to one side, 'ring the hotel,' he murmured, 'tell them about what happened to Manny - and tell them about the toy surprises, too. See if they can find out what they're for - and how we can stop The Beast from using them.'

'On it - what about Kali?'

Angel reflected, for a moment, 'don't mention her yet. If Doyle knows you suspect her, he'll get annoyed - they've bonded, or maybe she's manipulated him to think they have but … we can't risk him tipping her off. We'll follow up that lead, later, when we know more.'

'Right,' Gunn nodded - and went to make the call.

Meanwhile, Gwen was rewinding the tape that showed the study. She ran it at twenty times normal speed - but it was four hours worth of nothing. On screen, Cordelia and Angel sat in their chairs, drinking their coffee and staring at the steel door - for four hours. Gwen raised an eyebrow as it got to the very beginning of their shift - and she saw Cordelia and Angel have their quick roll on the floor, 'so you weren't watching the entire time,' she commented. Cordelia blushed, 'but the camera was - nothing got past us,' she said defensively.

'This is a bust,' Angel said, 'was there another way into the panic room - a back door?'

'Wouldn't be a very good panic room if there was,' Gwen replied, her tone sarcastic.

'Is there a camera in there?' Cordelia asked, 'I don't wanna witness Manny's brutal murder, first hand, but maybe we'll see when The Beast - or Kali - did it, and how they got there.'

Gwen rolled her chair back and wheeled to a different monitor, where she began tapping in new commands. But this time - when the tape started to rewind- rather than four hours of the panic room, there was four hours of fuzzy nothing.

'What happened?' Cordelia asked, leaning over her shoulder, 'what is this?'

'It's just static - nothing. The tape is blank. Like the electric got cut. Let me check the systems log.' She began to tap again - and pulled up the details, 'OK, found it,' she told them - speaking over her shoulder - 'the origin of the blackout.' She turned to face them, 'it kicked off in a small subset of municipal A-14 grid - that's the one under this block - about ten minutes before your watch started. '

'So - what does this mean?' Cordelia looked between the other woman and the vampire. Gwen shrugged, 'it means that sometime between me and Gunn checking on him - and you taking over - someone cut the power to the panic room and somehow found a way in and killed Manny.'

'Someone who knew where Manny would be - and who was guarding him,' Angel said thoughtfully. 'But … does Kali know how to mess with wires? Could she do that?'

'Who knows what she knows?' Cordelia pointed out, 'but she could have easy got Doyle to teach her the basics - he taught me.'

'Still doesn't explain how she got inside though - or back out.'

Gwen leaned back in her chair, 'locked door mystery,' she said, 'you know I hear detectives really buzz off those.'

'I am a detective,' Angel said grimly, 'and I'm not buzzing - I'm pissed. Let's get back to the hotel.'

* * *

The four of them arrived back in the lobby. Lorne was there - alone, except for Connor, who was napping. Fred and Wesley were inside the office. 'What's the latest?' Angel asked the green demon - not even bothering with a perfunctory 'hello'.

Lorne sighed. 'I checked out the ritual, like you asked,' he told Angel - showing him a diagram in the large book he had been reading, 'looks like there's some assembly required. Turns out these three pieces were inside the totems,' he pointed to the illustration - an orb with two metal wings attached. 'The Beast kills the totems, yanks out the pieces and builds himself a big, old light switch.'

'What about the other two?' Angel asked - referring to Ma'at and Mesektet, 'what did he take out of them?'

But Lorne was unsure. He knew energy had been taken from the little girl - and the heart had been carved right out of the shaman. 'But - what we don't know is how he's gonna use 'em.'

'But - these wings are metal right?' Gwen had an idea of how could she help - though she was loathe to do so … she should have got on the flight to Tahiti with her butler, 'if I can get close enough, I can melt them. That ought to slow him down.'

Cordelia nodded - that was true … but the only problem was, they didn't know where he was - and as he already had all the pieces, time was definitely not on their side when it came to looking for him. And Gunn had another problem to add to the pile. Sun or no sun - he wasn't worried about slowing The Beast down - they needed to be thinking of how to take The Beast out.

'We may have a solution for that,' Wesley's voice cut through their conversation. He and Fred had left the office and slid in with the group. Wesley was carrying a large book. 'We've done a lot of research,' Fred told them, 'and we think we may have found a way to get rid of The Beast. A portal.'

Gunn rolled his eyes, 'figures,' he muttered, under his breath.

'We've tried conventional methods,' Wesley told them, he began listing the things that had already failed: 'firearms, the usual weaponry … none of which seem to work.'

Gunn was still looking unconvinced. He was glancing between Fred and Wesley as they spoke, filling the others in on their plan, and his expression was not happy. But Angel could see their reasoning - and he began to nod. If the team could just hold their own - stand against it long enough to find a way to corner it - manoeuvre it into position …

'Then maybe we can send it back to the Hell sweet Hell it came from,' Lorne finished up.

* * *

Doyle towelled off, pulled his jeans on and then started to button up his clean shirt. He glanced at his watch, wondering whereabouts everybody else would be right about now. He checked he had his cell and grabbed a small dagger, which he tucked into his belt - out of sight. Then he headed for a coffee shop and ordered himself a drink, whilst he waited. He put his phone on the table beside him, expecting it to ring any minute.

* * *

Everyone was nodding along now - agreeing to this suggestion as the only possible way they might be able to defeat The Beast. Gunn looked around at them all - his expression was dark and sullen. They really seemed to be going for this. He shook his head and went off to the weapons cabinet to select himself an axe. Fred joined him there. 'I know what you must be thinking,' she said to him in a hushed whisper.

'That you don't learn your lesson?' he suggested, 'that every time there's a crisis. You and Wes crack open a portal with your science and his mojo?'

She took a deep breath, 'Wesley and I have decided it's our only option,' she told him.

'Oh Wesley and you have decided?' his voice took on a mocking tinge. 'The way Wesley and you decided that the only option for getting rid of Professor Seidel was to open a portal and send him to a dimension of unspeakable torment.'

'We didn't…' she began

'Because Doyle stopped you,' Gunn snapped at her. 'If Irish hadn't been there, you'd be a killer now, Fred. With Wesley's help.'

'Charles…'

He turned to face her - his eyes were shining, as if there were tears waiting to be shed. 'Time was you couldn't bear to be in the same room if openin' portals was even being discussed. Now,' he sighed, 'now it's your go to solution every time there's a crisis that takes some handlin'. I swear, Fred,' he shook his head, 'I swear it's like you're a totally different person. It's like I don't know you anymore.'

'Charles!'

'Don't 'Charles' me. You're changing. The more time you spend with Wes … the more he changes you.'

'You don't have any reason to be jealous,' she told him - her voice was worried, but annoyed as well. Annoyed that he was doubting her loyalty, her faithfulness to him. But it wasn't that. 'It's not jealousy,' he told her, selecting an axe and turning to go, 'it's disappointment.' He walked away from her - back to the group - and she stared after him.

'So - where we headed?' he asked Angel

'We've gotta find a way to locate The Beast,' the vampire said, 'we've got everything we need to stop the ritual - the spell to open the portal - Gwen - weapons … now we all just have to head out and find that thing before it gets a chance to make the sun go down.' He looked around the room at his team, and then frowned, 'where's Doyle?' he asked.

'He went to see a contact,' Cordelia said - remembering the half demon's words just before they left. 'Something about Manny, maybe he was looking for info - or protection or …'

'Whatever it is … he's too late, now,' Angel pointed out, 'we need him here - we need all hands on deck, Cordy - call him.' She nodded and went over to the phones, dialling Doyle's cell number from memory.

'You think maybe he got a beat on where The Beast might go - after it finished making mincemeat outta Manny?' Gunn asked.

But Angel shook his head, 'no one will know that - no one seems to know anything. We don't have any clues to go on.'

'Except the answer is among you,' the street fighter pointed out. 'We gotta start looking somewhere - shouldn't we start lookin' with the one person we know has a connection to The Beast?'

'Cordelia!' Angel yelled across the lobby at the woman on the phone, 'tell Doyle to meet us at the motel. We're gonna pay Kali a visit.'

* * *

Kalimania lay on her bed, flipping idly through the T.V channels. There was nothing on - nothing good enough to distract her from her fear anyway. And her worry. Doyle had been gone for hours. She had hoped he would come back to her at the motel, once he'd finished his errand - whatever it was. Or at least that he'd ring her from the hotel and tell it was OK to go back there now. Surely he must realise that, when she didn't hear from him, she worried that something had happened - that he was in danger, or hurt. She couldn't believe he would knowingly leave her to fret. But she had heard nothing from him, so fret she did.

She glanced up at where the Groosalug was standing. He was stood absolutely stock still, his sword raised. He hadn't moved a muscle in over an hour now. 'What are you doing?' she asked him - though her voice was bored, and a bit exasperated, she didn't want Groo - she wanted Doyle. But it was bugging her the way he stayed so still.

'I am protecting you, Noble Lady, as his most Exalted Majesty asked me to do.'

'But … why are you standing so still? Isn't your neck stiff?'

'Pylean warriors are trained for such endurance,' he told her, 'I once happened upon a herd of Bur-beasts and, as you know, an engorged Bur-beast will couple with anything that moves. I was forced to stand perfectly still for eleven days and nights.'

'Huh,' Kali raised an eyebrow, 'well, hopefully it won't be that long this time,' she said, 'hopefully Doyle will be back at any moment and then you can…' There was a knock on the door. 'There,' she grinned, 'he's back - you can go now.'

'Patience, Lady,' the Groosalug said, throwing a cautionary arm out to hold her back, 'let me answer the door, we know not what manner of intruder this may be.'

Sword still raised, he crossed to the door and opened it up. The Beast stood at the other side - eight feet tall from his hooves to his horns and standing out in broad daylight. Groo swung his sword - but The Beast simply backhanded him- and he flew across the room, hitting the far wall and slumping to the ground.

Kali had sat up on the bed - her eyes wide and terrified. The Beast looked at her and smiled. 'Hello, Kalimania,' it said.


	36. Long Day's Journey: Part Four

_Part Four _

The Groosalug got back to his feet - and charged at The Beast, screaming defiance, his sword raised. But - before his blade could even make contact - The Beast had plucked it from his hand, thrown it to one side and then picked up the Groosalug. It hurled the undefeated champion through the window. The glass smashed and the wooden window frame splintered, as the Groosalug barrelled through it. He was thrown with such force that he was flung across the width of the walkway and over the railing. He crashed to the ground - and the asphalt split beneath him.

Kali had scrambled to her feet. She had rolled across the bed - so it stood between her and The Beast - and, as it was busy hurling the Groosalug out of the window, she made a mad dash for the door. But it was too quick for her. It smacked her down with a massive paw, backhanding her through the door. She stumbled and fell out onto the walkway - and tumbled down the external staircase.

Bleeding and breathless, she struggled to get to her feet again - her palms and knees were grazed; there was a cut above her right eye that was trickling blood, blurring her vision, and her breath came out in ragged terrified, gasps. With many a backwards glance back up the stairs, she began to stagger away … but The Beast was not following her.

Still looking over her shoulder, she collided with something soft and warm. She looked round - Doyle was stood right in front of her. The rest of the team, weapons in hand were behind him. He wrapped his arms around her, 'Kali … what?'

'It's… it's up there…' she gasped, sinking into Doyle's arms, her voice catching on her small sobs of relief, as she realised her protector had come to save her once again. 'The Groosalug tried to fight it…' she told the team, 'but it's too strong. I ran … it hit me. It's still up there.'

'What does it want?' Cordelia asked, looking from Kali round at the others. 'Why did it come here … if it only hurt Kali?' She didn't get it. They'd been working on the premise that Kali was in cahoots with The Beast - that she had killed Manny … but now The Beast had turned up and attacked the demon woman. It seemed less likely they were partners in crime.

'I don't know,' Kali gasped, still clinging to Doyle, 'it's not following me, now - it just … it just came to my room. It's still up there.'

A look of realisation dawned on Wesley's face. 'Maybe it needs to do the ritual…'

'In the place where Kali lives,' Gunn finished off. Wesley wasn't the only one who could figure things out.

Angel nodded, 'maybe - that's not important right now. We just need to stop this thing - every one gear up. Wes,' he turned to the watcher, 'you got everything you need?'

'Ready,' Wesley nodded.

'Right - Gwen - you go for the orb, the wings - whatever you can get your hands on. Can't let him finish that spell. Gunn, Cordy - we're gonna keep The Beast busy long enough for Fred and Wesley to work their portal mojo. But distraction only, Cordy, you hear? He's big and strong - but you're quick; keep moving, don't let him land a blow. Doyle,' the vampire turned last of all to the Irishman, 'you stay here with Kali,' he looked at the shaken demon woman, 'take care of her - and if The Beast gets past us - comes back for her…'

'He won't,' Doyle assured him. 'If Groo wakes up, I'll send him up to you,' he nodded over at where the undefeated champion still lay on the asphalt. Angel nodded - and the team made their way up the staircase - leaving Kali and Doyle down in the motel forecourt.

* * *

Inside Kali's room, amidst the destruction he had already wrought, The Beast held the assembled artefact in front of him. The wings had been attached to the base of the orb, as the illustration in Lorne's book had depicted, and the three component parts now made one whole. The Beast blew out black smoke directly into the orb, which turned a smoky black inside, and then set it down into a circle he had drawn out on the floor. Then he knelt down, by the circle, and held out a bloody heart - letting the blood drip down on to the orb. He began to chant: '_Ket sahv Ma'at. Ket sahv Mesektet. Ket sahv Ma'at. Ket sahv Mesektet. Ket sahv Ma'at. Ket sahv Mesektet.'_

Angel burst through the doorway, the others just behind them. They came to a halt when they saw the kneeling Beast performing the ritual. 'He's already started,' Fred said. Glancing at Wesley, she pulled a book out of her bag and began to flip through it, quickly, looking for the right page.

* * *

Down on the forecourt, Kali and Doyle leaned on the hood of a car and stared upward - nervously. 'What do you think's happening?' she asked him. He shook his head. 'Well, do you really think they can stop it?' she asked again - tearing her eyes away from the higher storey and instead turning to look at him. But Doyle kept his own eyes glued on the doorway to Kali's room and didn't answer her.

Besides them, the Groosalug groaned and began to stir.

* * *

Wesley and Fred both held books now, and stood in the doorway, side by side - chanting. Angel launched himself at The Beast - blade at the ready, but The Beast - having finished it's incantation - was back on its feet and easily overpowered him; throwing him right into the wall that the Groosalug had crashed against earlier.

Cordelia winced, as he landed with a thump, 'Gunn - cover me,' she yelled - and Gunn ran at The Beast, his own axe ready, whilst Cordy rolled across the bed and got behind the demon. 'Close in,' she yelled at Gunn - and the pair of them attacked from both sides. But it was not enough - and The Beast used one powerful blow to take out first Gunn - and then Cordy, with the backswing.

Whilst The Beast was distracted by Angel and the others, Gwen began to sneak across the floor, headed for the orb. She reached it and grasped at it but - before she could melt the metal, The Beast spotted her and threw the ratty motel armchair right at her. She was knocked to the floor - and the artefact fell from her hand, smashing into its three separate parts.

'The orb,' Angel cried, from down on the floor, 'don't let it…' but he was too late. The orb had rolled away from Gwen's reach and landed right at the feet of The Beast. The massive demon smirked down at Angel, who watched on helplessly.

* * *

'Noble Majesty,' The Groosalug had finally got back to his feet and spotted Doyle standing nearby. He bowed his head to Kali, 'I am sorry I did not protect you better, My Lady. I am no longer fit to be called The Groosalug - the brave and undefeated.'

Kali stared at him, 'get up there!' she said to him, 'The Beast is still up there, Angel's fighting him - he needs your backup. Go!'

With a nod, The Groosalug gripped his sword once more and - ignoring all the aches and pains and injuries his last run in with The Beast had caused him - ran back up the stairs. 'Will that help?' Kali asked Doyle, 'now Angel has the Groosalug, as well, d'y' think it'll help?' But Doyle still said nothing. He seemed to be holding his breath - and keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the doorway above.

* * *

The Beast was back in the circle he had drawn for the ritual and was chanting once again. ' _...Ahmun Semkhet. Vesh Ra'at Manjet.'_

'Angel,' Wesley's voice had a note of warning in it - and the vampire heeded it. He nodded. 'Yeah. I got it. Everybody get ready.' The team all began to back away from the circle containing The Beast, as the air in front of it started to shimmer and distort.

* * *

'It feels like … maybe I'm passing out,' Kali said, staring upward at the sky. Doyle tore his eyes away from the door - away from where the team were risking death to face The Beast - and turned to look at her. 'What's that?' he asked, sounding confused.

Kali's eyes remained locked skyward. 'Everything seems like it's getting dimmer,' she told him, 'like I'm about to pass out.' Doyle followed her gaze and also stared up at the sky. 'It's not just you, darlin',' he told her, 'I see it too.' The pair of them sat huddled together on the hood of the car, their arms wrapped around each other - as they stared up at the darkening sky. The disc of the sun was beginning to fade behind enveloping blackness - and they shuddered in the sudden cold.

* * *

The Beast was continuing to chant. The portal shimmered in front of him. '_Ket Mesektet,' _he intoned. 'It's now or never,' Angel called - and he Gunn, Groo, Gwen and Cordy all launched themselves towards The Beast at once, weapons raised - cornering him, leaving him with nowhere to go … but the portal.

As it was forced inside the dimensional gateway, it closed behind him - swallowing him whole. The four of them came to a halt - staring at the spot where the massive demon had stood just a moment before, and then turned to look back at the two people chanting. 'We did it, didn't we?' Gwen's voice shook - but she sounded triumphant.

* * *

Down in the forecourt, Doyle and Kali continued to stare upwards as more and more of the sun disappeared into the blackness. 'The ritual,' Doyle said, softly, 'it must have worked - the Ra -tet …'

'They didn't stop it,' Kali said.

Doyle continued to stare upward. 'No.'

* * *

The gang looked around the room - at the place where the Beast had stood - and then out of the broken window. 'Uhm… why is it still getting darker?' Fred asked.

'I told you once' a voice said. It was deep, like it came from the very core of the earth itself. They all turned to look - The Beast stood in the doorway. 'You need not be my enemy,' it said - as it began to walk further into the room. The team tried to back away - though there was little space to go. The Beast stared straight at Angel. 'Angelus,' it said.

Cordelia inhaled. 'The answer is among you,' she whispered to herself. The Beast stood in front of them - staring them down - and then raised the orb to its mouth, swallowing it whole. It looked at Angel, one final time, 'we'll meet again soon,' it said - and them leapt from the window.

They ran over - just in time to watch it disappear upward into the blackness. 'My God, the sun,' Wesley said, as he looked out. He sounded sick. 'It's gone. Completely obliterated.'

...

Defeated, they left the smashed up motel room and headed back outside. 'I can't believe we lost the sun,' Fred said.

'Did it … did it know me?' Angel asked, as he walked down the steps. The tip of his broadsword was dragging along the floor behind him. 'It was… it was talking to me, right? Why? Or does he just know me from before. All those times it's … kicked my ass,' He looked at the others. Cordelia ducked her head down and said nothing.

'We'll figure it out back at the hotel,' Wesley said, 'whatever the connection - The Beast has plans for you. It said you would meet again. We need to work this. Maybe Lorne can read you.'

'How can it know me?' Angel worried. They came up to where Doyle and Kali were waiting for them. 'We're headed back to the hotel,' Wesley told them, 'we need to regroup - decide what to do next. Research…'

Doyle glanced down at where Kali was still huddled in his embrace, leaning against his chest. 'We'll catch up with y' later, yeah?' he said, 'I'll take Kali back to mine - get her patched up.'

'We need to work this,' Angel disagreed.

'She's terrified - and exhausted. I'll bring her back in a while, just … let her get some rest?' He held eye contact with Angel and - after a moment - the vampire nodded. It wasn't worth the fight. 'Don't be too long, though,' he warned, 'maybe Kali should sing for Lorne again. We're drawing a blank so far.'

Cordelia shot the vampire a swift look, her eyes narrowed, but then looked away just as quickly - and said nothing. Doyle nodded at Angel and then swept Kali up into his arms, like she was his new bride, 'come on, Princess,' he said to her- his voice gentle, 'let's get you back inside. Groo -' his voice lost the gentle edge as he spoke to the undefeated champion, 'go with the others for now - I can take care o' her.'

'As Your Majesty wishes,' the Groosalug bowed. The team headed back to their car - and Doyle carried Kali up the stairs, back to his own room. Cordelia's eyes followed them the whole way back but, again, she didn't say anything. In the darkness, Angel switched on the engine, turned on his headlights and drove the crew back to the Hyperion.

* * *

Once they were back inside his room, Doyle placed Kali down on his bed, gently - and then went into the bathroom to get the first aid kit that was stored there. 'OK, love,' he said to her - his voice still soft, 'let's get you fixed up.'

They both sat on the edge of the bed, as he gently dabbed away at the cut above her eye. She was shaking. Once he had stopped the bleeding he took her hands in his own and looked at her palms. 'These could do with a bit of a tidy up,' he smiled at her - a soft, warm smile. He took out an antiseptic wipe and began to clean her hands. She winced as the disinfectant stung. 'Hey - hey,' his voice was still gentle, 'it's OK, yeah? It's all gonna be OK.'

She still said nothing. She still trembled like a leaf. He tidied away the kit and then poured her a tumbler of scotch. 'Here, try this - it'll calm y' nerves.' She tossed it back and shuddered at the strong, bitter taste. He poured her another. She drank this one more slowly, sipping it.

As she sat on the edge of the bed, drink in hand; still shaking, Doyle reached out and began to caress her face. He stroked her cheekbone with his fingertips and gently brushed her lips with his thumb. 'Look at me, Kali,' he said, trying to peer into her eyes. She didn't meet his gaze and he tipped her head slightly, still gentle - so they were looking at each other. 'Listen. I know you're afraid. I know things seem bad right now. But it's all gonna be OK. Do you believe me?'

She breathed in sharply.

'Do you believe me?' he asked again.

'I want to go home,' her voice was barely above a whisper. Doyle sighed, 'y' can't - not yet… but soon, everything will be better.'

'I'm afraid,' she told him.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment - and then took the drink from her hand, placing it on the bedside table. Then he brought his own hand back up to caress her face once more. They stared at each other - hearts beating in tandem - and then Doyle leaned forward, closing the distance between them. His lips brushed against hers' in a soft, breathless kiss. She whimpered quietly - and he kissed her harder, more intensely. He brought his other arm around and pulled her close to him - deepening their kiss even further.

'I'm just so afraid,' she murmured, as they broke apart, 'all the time.'

'It's OK,' he kissed her neck, behind her ear, and down towards her collarbone 'it's all gonna be OK.' He pushed her down - so she was lying on the bed. She lay back without complaint and wrapped her arms around him as he climbed on top of her - still kissing every inch of her bare skin that he could reach. 'I'm gonna make all that fear go away,' he breathed, before pushing his lips against hers' once more - and beginning to unbutton her blouse. 'Trust me...'

* * *

**A/N next episode is 'Awakening'.**


	37. Awakening: Part One

**Awakening**

_Part One_

BAM! The vision pain slammed into Doyle's mind and his whole body convulsed, on the bed. He brought his hand up to his brow - as if trying to ease the pressure. The images he saw were like something out of hell. There was a literal devil, there: a giant demon that seemed to be made of magma - with twisting horns and goat's hooves. And it was stood in the middle of a field - a battlefield - no wait, a massacre. Hundreds of dead bodies that this demon had just ripped apart. It was talking to someone. 'Our strength is useless divided, join with me, Angelus'. There was a flash and Doyle caught a glimpse of Angel, with long hair and dressed like it was the olden days. Not Angel. Angelus. And then the pain subsided.

He sat up in bed, gasping. This was … he frowned, this was the first vision he'd had in months. The first since his birthday. He'd been so worried - thinking The Powers had turned their back on him, but now this vision had landed out of the blue - as if there had never been any pause to them. He needed to ring Angel, he supposed. Normally - when he was faking a vision - he rang Wes, Wes was his boss now. But it had been Angel in the vision. And that demon thing … Doyle didn't fancy his and Wes' chances against something that monstrous. Not even if they had the Groosalug with them.

He reached out for his cell phone. It was pitch black outside, he just hoped Angel would be up late. He got out of bed, as he began to dial - and then stopped - looking down in confusion. He was naked. He never went to bed naked - why was he…? He frowned even deeper, as something else occurred to him. Not only did he have no recollection of taking his clothes off before bed, he had no recollection of going to bed at all. Of being back at the motel, full stop. He remembered… he struggled to think… he remembered the spell. That was it. He remembered it going wrong - and them all thinking they were teenagers again, and fighting Angel and Fred waking him up, after his neck was snapped.

Whatever they were into back there must have been bad juju… because it had clearly wiped the intervening hours from his… _Cordelia! _Was she fixed? Had the spell worked, was she OK? He flipped his cell open - ready to dial - not caring if Angel was sleeping. The vision paled in comparison to the importance of knowing if his Cordy was OK. What he saw made him pause, once more. The clock on the screen was telling him it was half past eight in the morning. He twisted to look out of the window - it was pitch black outside. The time must be wrong … he crossed the room to check his alarm clock, stumbling over the puddle of his divested clothes, as he went. He briefly wondered how come he had stripped them all off and thrown them on the floor like that. Spell hangover making him act loopy, he supposed.

He looked at the alarm clock - his brow was now furrowed into a deep crease of confusion. The alarm said the same time as his phone. 'I'm puttin' some pants on,' he muttered to himself, 'I can't think without my pants on.' He grabbed his underwear from out of the pile on the floor and stepped into them. A moment later - he grabbed his tanktop and wriggled into that as well. Once decent, he sat on the bed and switched the bedside lamp on. 'Right - what's happenin'?' he said, under his breath. He picked his watch up off the table. It too said half eight - though that could be at night time he supposed - it was a proper clock face and AM and PM were not indicated. He peered out of the window again. It was properly dark outside - pitch black, in fact. 'Huh...'

He decided to try and shed some light on the … no light situation by switching on the television. Maybe at least the news would give him an accurate time - even if it didn't explain why all the clocks had stopped, or possibly why the sun had disappeared.

'Officials from the national weather service remain baffled as to the cause of this strange phenomenon,' the newsreader was saying - as the T.V sprang into life. 'All reports agree that, at mid afternoon yesterday, what meteorologists are calling a 'localised abnormality' caused darkness across the entire wider Los Angeles area.'

'Huh…' Doyle said again, watching.

'It seems outlying areas remain unaffected,' the news reader said, 'but, for now, the sun over Los Angeles has, for all intents and purposes, been blotted out from the sky.'

'So how did that happen?' Doyle wondered - leaning closer towards the television - as if he really thought the newsreader could explain it to him. That was when he noticed the date and time in the corner of the screen. The time backed up what all his own clocks were saying. It was the morning - way after the hour of sunrise. But it was the date that was now troubling him. 'What?' he breathed, staring at it. The last he remembered - they had been doing the spell at the hotel - though he had no recollection of them finishing it and him coming home - but, if the television was accurate, that had been _weeks_ ago. If this date was right, it wasn't just the journey home that was blocked from his memory… but the past month or so.

This was … he didn't know what this was. But he knew he needed to go and see Angel. He pulled on the rest of his clothes, grabbed his best fighting axe and headed out into the city.

* * *

The television was on at the hotel as well. 'The mayor's office has scheduled a news conference for six o'clock this evening,' the news reader was saying, 'regarding this bizarre development and what it might mean for the city.'

'I know what it means,' Gunn said, switching the screen off, 'it means that soon vamps everywhere will realise that this town is open for business 24/7, there's gonna be a huge rise in undead tourism.'

Cordelia sighed, 'we gotta find a way to bring back the sun,' she said.

Over by the counter, Wesley and Fred were poring over the books - but they were sorry to say that they were not getting anywhere. The symbols were taking forever to decipher and - as ever - there was nothing to be seen about The Beast.

Angel sat on the round sofa, Connor in his arms. 'We just gotta find a different way to work this,' he told them. 'The Beast - whatever he is, wherever he came from - it seems nobody ever bothered to record it. Sorry Wes, but the books are not our friend on this one. We've only got one clue...'

'The answer is among you,' Gunn repeated the phrase.

'Exactly - now, we've been working on the assumption that that piece of cryptic was about Kali.' He nodded at the demon woman who was sat on the red sofa across from him. The Groosalug was with her, and he had his sword unsheathed and raised.

'The Beast follows her around wherever she goes and … let's face it … we know Armageddon is in her future because Lorne read it,' Angel continued. 'But when we just faced it…'

'It was talking to you,' Cordelia said. 'It spoke to you - like it knew you.'

'Yeah … but… I don't know The Beast. Big rock like that? I'd remember it.'

Cordelia bit her lip and looked downward, she didn't say anything. Angel looked around at the team, 'you do all believe me, right? I don't know anything. I don't know The Beast. If the answers are with me … I'm as lost as the rest of you.'

There was a very pregnant silence for a moment - and then Fred took pity on him and broke it. 'Of course we believe you, Angel. We absolutely believe that you're not willingly or knowingly helping The Beast.'

'_Willingly_ or _knowingly_?' he repeated.

'There's a chance - slender perhaps - that you're being used,' Wesley told him. 'A puppet. Being manipulated to act for The Beast, without being consciously aware.'

'No - not a chance,' Angel said, shaking his head in vehement disagreement.

'But how would you know?' Wesley argued, 'that's the whole point of it being - well - _unconscious_.'

'And let's face it, man,' Gunn added, 'someone did a whole world of nasty on Manny back at electro-Gwen's place… right around the time you were supposed to be guarding him.'

'But I was with Cordelia the whole time,' Angel protested, 'wasn't I, Cordy? We didn't move for four hours straight and somehow Manny got killed, but it couldn't have been by me because I was the other side of a solid steel door… with witnesses … and cameras. Couldn't have been me. Tell 'em Cordy.'

Cordelia had been sat by herself, very quiet, staring down at her hands. She looked up, when she heard her name - looking startled for a moment - and then shook her head, 'uh -no - I...I don't think it's Angel doing these things.'

'See,' Angel grinned - pleased to have been backed up. But Cordelia did not smile back. She went back to looking at her hands.

'Couldn't Lorne read him?' Fred suggested, 'check to see if he knows anything - buried deep. Maybe his aura is...'

'My aura knows nothing, either,' Angel interrupted, 'and I'm not gonna sing.'

'Thank God for that,' Gunn muttered. Angel threw him a dirty look.

'Maybe we're headed down the wrong path,' Kali said, from her place on the couch. She was still bruised from her encounter with The Beast - and it must have left her unnerved, because she was sitting ever so close to the Groosalug, as if frightened of losing his protection. 'Maybe all this is just a distraction or…'

'Maybe Kali could sing again?' Gunn suggested, 'kinder on the ear drums than our boy doin' it… and she's connected to magma man, as well.' But Kali looked startled and began to shake her head. 'No way - my singing for my destiny days are over. When you drop a tune and the psychic flees the room, you know you're bad. Maybe Angel is a safer bet, after all. It was him The Beast spoke to.'

Lorne sighed. He had - as always - a SeaBreeze, in his hand, and was leaning against the office door, listening carefully to the conversation as it went round in circles. 'Well if I can't avoid it, I can't avoid it,' he said, 'c'mon Angel cakes, let's hop into the office - give you some privacy whilst you strangle Mr. Manilow.'

Angel looked around at the others, 'I've really go to…?' They all nodded at him - except for the Groosalug, who remained stock still beside Kali - weapon raised, and Cordelia - who was still silently staring downward. The vampire sighed. He got to his feet, handed Connor to Gunn and then followed Lorne into the office. They closed the door behind them - but they were still visible through the window.

'What do you reckon he's gonna sing?' Gunn asked. Wesley looked up from his books, 'five bucks on 'can't smile without you'.' They smiled at each other, for a brief moment. For just a second it was like the old days - the team in Caritas waiting for Angel to sing Karaoke… but then Gunn glanced at Fred, stood close beside Wesley, and Wesley looked at the baby held in Gunn's arms - and the smiles slid off their faces, as the intervening years crashed down between them.

* * *

Inside the office, Lorne sat slumped in a chair - as Angel got into his groove. Lord let his groove not last too long!

'_That's the night that the lights went out in Georgia That's the night that they hung an innocent man Well don't trust your soul to no back woods Southern lawyer 'Cause the judge in the town's got bloodstains on his hands,' _ Angel sang - flat and completely out of tune … but his aura was clean. There was nothing there that Lorne could read, no link to The Beast, or to the rain of fire, or to the blotted out sun. 'OK, that's great, big guy,' he said, cutting the vampire off before he launched into the second verse, 'I got nothing.'

'You didn't see anything?'

'You're not connected to The Beast, that I can see … though your choice of song might be throwing me off. Not really feeling the Vicki Lawrence love.'

'So I'm in the clear? Ha! I knew it - go tell the others.'

Lorne got out of his chair and left the office; Angel on his heels, looking smug; and conveyed the news to the rest of the team.

'Well, if Angel's aura is clear and he has an alibi for Manny's murder,' Wesley said, when he heard the news, 'then we're going to need another clue before we…'

...

The front door burst open and Doyle came barrelling through, axe in hand. 'Angel, man, it's mad out there,' he said, without stopping to say hello, 'did you know the sun has disappeared completely from the sky? People are goin' nuts!'

'Where the hell you been, man?' Gunn said - but Doyle didn't hear the sarcasm in his voice, and just took it as a straight question. 'I'm honestly not sure. My mind's a blank for weeks now. I just woke up at the hotel to find the sun gone. But - Angel, man, I had a vision.'

'A vision?' It was Wesley who spoke, he closed his book and looked at the half demon, keenly. The Powers had been awfully quiet about this whole thing. But now it seemed like they were stepping up and finally getting involved. This could be the clue that they had so desperately needed.

'Yep,' Doyle nodded, 'but it was… like a flashback- a rerun. It was somethin' that has happened not somethin' that's gonna happen. I don't get those too often - the last one like that was with that Billy guy. It means that - whatever this is - it's big and The Powers want it fixin' … and possibly that they blame me.' He frowned, as he remembered why he had been made to see that lady get killed by her own husband, over a year ago, now.

'So what did you see?' Angel asked him, he folded his arms and looked expectant. Doyle swallowed, hard. 'Well - there was a - a massacre - a ton of dead bodies, just lyin' there - ripped to shreds, like. And - well…' he swallowed again, 'well, you were there, man.'

'Why was I at a massacre?'

'Well it wasn't you, bud.'

'It was me but it wasn't me - what's with the cryptic, Doyle?'

The Irishman looked uncomfortable. 'Well it was… was…'

'Angelus,' Cordelia finished, her voice soft. She looked up. Doyle glanced across at her - and when their eyes met, he broke into a broad smile, 'hey - you got your memory back - the spell did fix y'! You're you again, right?'

'Doyle, did you get hit in the head?' Fred asked him, frowning, 'Cordelia's been Cordelia for weeks now. You know that.'

'I do?' He shook his head, 'well - I must have been doin' some pretty heavy duty drinkin' recently, 'cause, like I tell y'... I'm missin' weeks, total black out from the spell until I woke up this mornin'. Anyway - in my vision, Angelus was talkin' to someone - thing - well, it was talkin' to him.'

'What was it?' Wesley's voice was sharp.

'Hell if I know. Big guy - looked like he was made of a walking volcano - with devil's horns and hooves. Scary lookin' fella, let me tell y'.'

'The Beast,' Wesley said.

'Did we ever think it was gonna be anyone different?' Gunn replied. Wesley ignored him.

'What did it say?' Angel asked. Doyle swallowed again - and tried to remember the exact words the monstrous demon had spoken. 'Um somethin' about … your strength being useless divided and that you - Angelus, I mean - should join with him.'

'That was the offer The Beast spoke of back at the motel,' Wesley surmised, 'when he said he'd told you before that you need not be enemies … you already met The Beast - as Angelus - he's already asked you to work with him.'

'But that's not possible,' Angel protested, 'I remember everything Angelus did - I did - every family butchered, every child slaughtered, every throat ripped out - I remember every detail of it. How could I not remember a giant magma demon with goat legs?'

'There seems to be a lot of the not rememberin' goin' around, bud. I'm kinda sensin' a theme.'

Kali suddenly leaned forward and spoke to Doyle, 'you really don't remember anything of the past couple of weeks?' she asked the half demon.

'Nope.'

'_Anything?' _She raised an eyebrow, 'you don't remember last night?'. But he looked nonplussed and just shook his head, 'why would I lie?'

She shrugged and sat back again, staying close within the circle of the Groosalug's protection.

Wesley was frowning, his mind was ticking over as he tried to work out the problem set before him. 'There's nothing in the books to help,' he said, 'the only thing we know is that 'the answer is among us' - and now The Powers have sent us a message to tell us, this isn't about Kali, it isn't even about Angel…'

'It's about Angelus,' Cordelia said - her voice was barely more than a whisper. She looked up as she spoke, caught Angel's eye and then looked back down again. She had known this since last night, since The Beast had used Angel's other name - it had made immediate sense to her, though the others hadn't cottoned on to its significance. But then - none of them had ever met Angelus - and none of them were trying to form a meaningful romantic relationship with Angel. It just didn't cut as close for them.

'No way…' Angel started to protest, but Wesley cut him off. 'If we are to have any chance of defeating The Beast then we have no choice. We need Angelus.'

* * *

Gunn and Fred stood at the counter, the lobby had emptied out. Angel and Cordelia had gone outside, into the garden. Wesley had disappeared - and no one knew where to. Kali and Groo were talking quietly, over on the red sofa - the young couple couldn't hear what they were saying.

Fred sighed and closed up her books. 'You giving up?' he asked her. She shrugged, 'there's nothing in them. I don't understand the symbols, myself. I need Wesley.' He raised his eyebrow at her, and she sighed again. 'I need his expertise,' she told her boyfriend, 'I can't do this alone.'

'Seems like there's a lot you can't do without Wesley,' Gunn commented. His voice was bitter.

'Charles - please. Can we not?' she asked, 'are things not bad enough as they are without us fighting? We need to work this.'

'You're the one closing up the books.'

'There's nothing in them. We need - we just need to … somehow …' she took a deep breath, 'there's nothing we can do until we can access Angelus.'

'Yeah - and how we gonna do that?'

'It's gonna be a lot easier said than done, bud,' Doyle chimed in. He was sat on the round sofa, alone, his axe lay beside him on the seat and he was shuffling his playing cards. But when he spoke he pocketed the cards and went to join the other two, by the desk. 'Angelus - the demon - lives inside our boy all the time,' Doyle explained to them. 'Angel is the prison that the soulless monster he really is, is kept in. But the gypsies who cursed him - they locked him down tight.' He whistled through his teeth.

'The moment of perfect happiness?' Fred asked. Doyle nodded. As the three of them spoke, Lorne came out of the office and began to listen in. 'for the longest time, we all thought 'perfect happiness' was a euphemism for just common or garden old sex,' Doyle explained.

'Because that's how it happened last time,' Gunn checked, 'with Buffy?'

Doyle nodded. 'But that theory got blown outta the water a couple o' years ago.'

'The night with Darla,' the street fighter nodded, remembering that crazy time, when Angel had been out in the cold - hunting his vampire women and wreaking bloody vengeance on Wolfram and Hart; Doyle had been awaiting trial for bank robbery and grand theft auto and himself, Wesley and Cordelia had simply been trying to hold everything together.

One night - cold and alone - Angel had succumbed to temptation and slept with Darla. When he failed to lose his soul he had had an epiphany - realising he wanted his family back. But no action was without consequence and that one night with Darla had led to Connor - and everything that had happened last year. That night was, ultimately, the reason Wes and Doyle were no longer really part of the family.

'Yeah,' Doyle was saying, agreeing with Gunn, 'turns out Angel can have sex whenever he wants - as long he remembers to brood a little bit, afterwards. It just happened to be what triggered it last time. But really 'perfect happiness' is a feeling of utter contentment - and acceptance. A moment when the weight of his soul, his guilty conscience, no longer plagues him. But … there's no shortcut to that.'

'And happiness?' Lorne said, sipping his SeaBreeze, he shook his head as he spoke, 'of any kind - never mind the perfect sort - that's in pretty short supply around these parts, right now.'

'So…' Fred turned to gaze through the doors - out to where Angel and Cordy were sitting and talking, quietly, 'without a way to trigger his curse, there's no way to bring back Angelus?'

* * *

The robed figure knelt in his prayer circle and cast the animal bones. Once they had scattered, he lowered his forehead to the ground and began to chant. Beyond his chamber, in the next room, he could hear the sounds of a fight taking place; people stumbling, being thrown around and the sound of furniture breaking. A man was thrown through the doorway and landed just in front of the praying man - unconscious. The praying man looked up.

Wesley entered the room, wiping the blood from his knuckles. He stared down at the figure in the prayer circle, adorned in long, purple robes with only his eyes left exposed. 'Rumour has it you possess certain skills I require,' the watcher said to the man. The man stared up at him. 'I need a soul extracted.'

* * *

'You know this can't be right,' Angel said. He and Cordelia were sat on the edge of the fountain, their heads were together and they were holding hands.

'I know… I know that Beast spoke to you like he knew you,' Cordelia murmured, 'and I know it isn't you he knows, it's Angelus. He doesn't know you and you don't him. You don't have the answers we're looking for.'

'But... you think Angelus might?'

'Doesn't matter,' she looked up and pressed her lips against Angel's, 'he's not here, and we're not bringing him here. There's no way - and even if we could...'

'It would be the worst of all possible worlds.'

'Exactly. The others don't know. They've never seen him - Angelus - but I remember. I remember dead fish and creepy drawings left on pillows and Miss Calendar…'

Angel pulled away from her - looking pained, but she reached out and touched his face, gently, making him look at her again. 'And I remember absolutely that he is _not_ you. If Angelus is here - then you're gone - you can't protect anybody; not from The Beast - and not from Angelus. Whatever answers Angelus might know … we can do without them.' She kissed him, again, 'it's more important that the Powers of good keep their champion.'

'The others might disagree.' He said, sounding troubled, 'might try to…'

'I won't let them,' she kissed him one final time, 'I won't let them.'

* * *

The front doors opened, and the gathered team turned to stare, as Wesley returned - accompanied by a mystic, covered head to toe in purple robes. 'Where's Angel?' Wesley asked, 'I've found a solution.'

* * *

'No way.' Angel was in the office with Wesley - and they had been arguing for ten minutes, straight. 'Wo Pang is a shaman,' Wesley explained to him, 'order of the Kun-sun-Dai.'

'A dark mystic? You brought a dark mystic into the hotel without telling me?'

'Claims he can extract souls.'

'Claims?'

'And more importantly - he can restore them.'

'Doesn't matter,' Angel said, his arms were folded across his chest, defensively and he was shaking his head, 'we're not bringing Angelus.'

* * *

'Princess?'

Cordelia turned - and saw Doyle stood beside her, looking awkward and hesitant. He held out a cup, 'I brought you a coffee,' he said to her. She took it from him, 'you're calling me 'Princess' again?'

'Sorry,' he said, shuffling his feet, 'I know I'm not supposed to - anymore - just… habit, I guess.'

She wrinkled her forehead, 'no - I mean …' she shook her head, 'I guess it doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of things. Not with what's going on, tonight.'

'Listen … about this whole shaman thing. I think Wesley knows what he's doin'... I think this could be a safe way to, y'know, find out what we need and then get Angel right back.'

'And what if it isn't?' She asked him, 'what if we end up with Angelus on the loose - do you have any idea what that's like?'

'Well … I mean there was that one time, years ago - with the happy pills,' Doyle reminded her, 'I think me and Wes got a taster. But - we bested him then and we can do again.'

'We were a team, back then,' Cordelia reminded him, 'a loyal little family unit. Angelus couldn't get in between us and we were stronger together than he was by himself. But now …'

'Now, I've ruined everythin',' Doyle said, hanging his head. She looked at him. 'Now everything is different,' she clarified, 'but I don't think there's much use to be had in playing the blame game.' He looked up at her - surprised.

* * *

'You don't have a choice, Angel,' Wesley told him. His voice was sharp - impatient. It was only midday, but the eternal blackness made it feel like midnight, made him tired. They needed to sort this; before the vampires came to town; before all the plants and the flowers died; before the people gave way to desperation. This situation needed sorting. And Angelus was their best chance of doing exactly that. But the difficulty was in making Angel realise this. 'Don't make this harder than it needs to be,' Wesley pleaded, 'there's no plan B and we're running out of time. People are in serious danger.'

'And how much more danger will they be in if we unleash Angelus on the world, huh?'

'We'll take every precaution,' the watcher assured him, 'Angel…'

'My son is in this hotel,' Angel said. He put his hands on the desk and leaned on it. 'You got any idea of what Angelus will do to _my_ son? The delight he'll take in being the one to kill my child - to cause me that hurt, that guilt?'

A tremor ran across Wesley's face. 'I will protect Connor with my life,' he said to Angel. 'Protecting you and Connor was all I ever cared about doing, it's why…'

'_The father will kill the son,'_ Angel said. Wesley looked pained. 'That prophecy was false,' he replied, trying to keep his voice calm. 'Doyle and I were mistaken. We very much regret…'

'You betrayed me,' Angel's voice was deadly quiet, 'abandoned this family, stole Connor, put us all through hell … and you did it to keep my child safe. You did it to stop me from being the thing that killed him. To keep me from that pain and hurt. I get it Wes, I do. I understand exactly why you did what you did. So I'm sure you can see that it comes as a bit of a surprise to me that you're now advocating bringing out the one thing that can make that false prophecy a reality. I won't do it. Get rid of the shaman.' He left the office and slammed the door behind him.

...

The rest of the team were out in the lobby - staring at him - when he got there, so he turned and stormed back out into the garden.

Wesley followed him out of the office, more slowly. He looked at the team, wearily. 'He needs to be convinced,' he said, 'Cordelia…'

'No.' Cordelia shook her head. 'No. I'm not going to try and convince him to bring back Angelus. Never.'

...

Out in the garden - alone - Angel listened in to the group discussion, his vampire's hearing allowing him to catch every last word.

...

'He's afraid,' Wesley was saying.

'With good reason!' Cordelia retorted.

'I am confident that we can manage the situation. That we can contain Angelus and then restore his soul. It could take less than a day.'

'You really think it could be that quick?' Gunn asked. Wesley nodded, 'Wo Pang can remove his soul - store it - and return it. Angelus would only have to be unleashed as long as it took him to tell us what he knows about The Beast.'

'And why the hell would he do that?' Cordelia asked, 'if the only thing stopping us from forcing the soul back down his throat is him holding out on giving us the information, why would he tell us anything? The longer he refuses to talk the longer he has to work out a way to escape. You guys don't know Angelus. Angel is smart, sure he is, but Angelus is smarter. There's just something about evil that jacks up the I.Q points. He can out-think all of us - and The Beast.'

...

Angel sat forward on the bench, his elbows resting in his knees and his hands pressed together in front of his face - as if in prayer. He had his eyes closed, but he could not block out their voices.

...

'I'm not eager to unleash a serial killer in the body of my boss,' Fred said, 'but - if Angelus is so much smarter than the rest of us - don't we need that? The Beast has serious plans, blotting out the sun, making it rain fire … we need someone who can always be a step or two ahead. Surely there's a way we can make Angel see…?'

'He's afraid for Connor,' Wesley told them, 'he's remembering…' he coughed awkwardly, 'he's remembering the prophecy…'

'That prophecy was false,' Gunn pointed out.

'Well Angelus would take great delight in making it come true,' Cordelia said, 'he always hurts the people that Angel loves the most, the people that anchor him to humanity. He likes to punish Angel for keeping him trapped all these years. Just because that prophecy didn't come down from on high doesn't mean the words can't still come true.'

'But it can't,' Doyle interrupted. Everyone turned to look at him. 'Don't you remember? Sahjahn didn't create the prophecy, he rewrote it. The real prophecy says that Connor will grow up and kill Sahjahn. I remember Angel saying - there was no need to worry, 'cause nothin' could hurt Connor until he'd grown up. It was written.'

'So - it's a reasonable assumption that we could keep Connor safe,' Wesley said, thoughtfully.

'Stick Groo on protector duty - and put them outta the way. Angelus locked in the basement… he isn't gonna get near Connor,' the Irishman said. 'The very existence of the prophecy tells us we can be successful in keepin' the baby safe.'

...

Angel opened his eyes and stared straight ahead, where he could see the little cluster of his family, discussing his future.

...

'Well, this all sounds very convincing,' Fred said, 'but … it's not us that needs to be convinced - it's Angel.'

'I'll do it,' the voice came from the door to the courtyard. They turned to look. Angel was stood there, looking heavyhearted. 'But we'll need a cage.'

'Angel - no!' Cordelia looked horrified.

'About 10 by 12 - 2 inch steel bars, reinforced,' Angel reeled off his instructions, ignoring Cordy for now. 'I'll make some calls.'

* * *

Down in the basement, Wesley, Doyle, Gunn and Lorne worked to assemble the cage; welding it in place; bolting on the door; inspecting the bars to check they would hold.

Angel and Cordelia were talking quietly. There were tears in her eyes, as she spoke to him, 'you can't go through with this, Angel,' she said to him, 'please…'

'It's the only way,' he told her, 'we gotta do what we can to solve this. To save the world. We have to make the hard decisions - that's what makes us champions.'

'But…'

'It's ready,' Wesley's voice cut through their hushed conversation. Angel nodded. He stroked Cordelia's hair, tenderly, for a moment, looking into her eyes. 'I'll only be gone a little while,' he promised her. 'And, once I'm back, we'll defeat this thing - and we'll get a chance to be together, whilst the world isn't ending; I promise.' As he spoke, he was aware of Doyle standing near the cage, pretending not to listen - trying not to react. He tried to blank out the eavesdropping half demon, 'just remember - whatever Angelus says to you - to anyone - he's not me, he doesn't speak for me, and I love you, Cordelia. Promise me you'll remember that?'

She nodded and then turned away from him, sniffing. He gazed at her for a long moment, as if wanting to say something more, but then turned to Kali and took Connor from her arms. He held the baby close for a moment, breathing his scent in, and then looked up at the undefeated champion that stood by the demon woman. 'You'll keep him safe?' he asked the Groosalug.

'With my life,' the Groosalug nodded.

'If I get out - if I get near him, you don't hesitate for a moment. Drive a stake right through my heart, you hear? Don't let me hurt my son - nothing else matters.' He held Connor for a moment longer, hugging him tightly, then handed him back to Kali. Then he walked into the cage - and Doyle and Gunn began to strap him down onto a bench.

...

The shaman came into the basement and placed a fragile looking, large vase down onto a table. 'What is that?' Kali whispered, looking at it with interest. Wesley heard her. 'It's called the Muo Ping,' he told her, 'it's the receptacle that will hold Angel's soul until it's ready to be returned.'

...

Once Angel was strapped to the bench, Gunn and Doyle left the cage and the shaman entered it. 'You would be wise to put the second lock on the door,' Wo Pang told them.

'Do as he says,' Wesley commanded - and Gunn added a second bolt to the cage door.

Angel looked up at his friends - they all stared down at him. 'Take Connor out of here,' he said - Kali nodded, and she and Groo left the basement. Lorne looked uncomfortable, 'you know - I think I'll head up there with them,' he said to the vampire, 'if you don't mind - you know how dark magic unleashing unspeakable evil gives me the heebies.'

Angel nodded, and Lorne followed the others up the stairs. 'Cordy, Fred,' Angel said to them, 'you don't have to be here either.'

'No!' Cordelia was still protesting, 'Angel don't do this!'

'Cordelia - don't watch,' he said to her.

'C'mon, Cordy,' he heard Doyle say, 'we can go back upstairs - wait it out. You can stay out of his way until Angel's back.'

The vampire heard the sounds of his erstwhile best friend leading Cordelia away from the cage and up the stairs. From the sound of it, she was still protesting the whole way. The rest of the team stayed put - and watched on.

Beside him, Wo Pang began the ritual. 'Close your eyes and don't speak,' he said - before beginning to chant in a foreign tongue...


	38. Awakening: Part Two

_Part Two_

'_Wo qing qui wu xin zi li. Kun, zhen, xun, kan, li. Ci wo tong ling. Ji fao muo li,' Wo Pang began to intone. He opened his eyes - and they glowed red. 'Wo hao zhao jue xin ze. Wan cheng ta de zi yuan.' He bent down and whispered into Angel's ear: 'time to say goodbye' and then he took the sword from his belt and swung it straight at the vampire's neck._

_Angel pulled his arm free of the restraints and grabbed the shaman by the wrist, arresting the fall of the sword only inches away from his neck. He struggled to force the blade away from himself. _

'_Gunn!' Wesley yelled at the street fighter, and Gunn began to try and unlock the double locked cage door, his hands fumbling as he tried to get it done quickly. 'Hurry!' Fred cried. Up on the stairs, Doyle and Cordy heard the ruckus and came running back down, just in time to hear Wo Pang hiss, 'fool, why would I help you? I serve the awakened one.'_

'_A little help here, please,' Angel yelled at his team, from his position still strapped to the bench. Gunn got into the cage and began to wrestle the shaman away from Angel, as Angel unfastened his restraints. Wo Pang pushed Gunn out of the cage, he knocked into the Muo Ping - the container which was supposed to hold Angel's soul. Then the shaman swung his sword at Wesley, who jumped out of the way. Another sword swing was aimed at Doyle's head - and the half demon crashed to the ground, as he ducked to avoid it. Cordelia and Wo Pang were now face to face and - using her patented move - Cordy kneed him hard in the groin and, as he doubled over, kicked the sword from his hand. The shaman staggered and found himself now face to face with a freed Angel. _

'_So this was all a set up?' Gunn said, as the shaman looked around at the circling team, warily, 'the whole soul colonic, what for?'_

'_That's what I'd like to know,' Angel said, bearing down on the wrongfooted shaman, glowering. 'Why does The Beast suddenly want me dead? Did Angelus welch on our pact? Is that it? OK - well, maybe you can shed a little light as to what The Beast's plan actually is.'_

_The shaman took out a knife, but Angel wasn't bothered by the implicit threat and moved ever closer, 'maybe I should start taking you apart now, piece…'_

_The shaman lifted the knife, grasping the hilt with both hands, and then turned it on himself; plunging it deep into his own heart. He keeled over - dead._

'_...by piece,' Angel finished up. He looked around at his team. Doyle whistled, 'gotta say … didn't see that one comin'.' _

'_So much for that font of information,' Cordy stared down at the dead shaman at her feet - and then looked up at the guys, 'so what now?' _

'_Gunn, see if he has anything on him,' Wesley said. Gunn knelt down beside the dead mystic and pulled the covering from his head and face. The head of the shaman was entirely covered in oriental looking characters and, as Gunn pulled at the shaman's robes, it was revealed that the lettering also covered his neck and chest. 'He's got something on him alright,' Gunn said._

_..._

_They had moved the mystic onto the bench, in the cage, on which Angel had been recently strapped down. They had removed much of his heavy robing. Every inch of his bare skin was covered in the same characters - and Wesley was examining them. _

_The rest of the team hovered above, looking down. 'Is there any part of him that doesn't have writing on?' Lorne asked, sipping his SeaBreeze. Then he shook his head, 'scratch that, I don't wanna know.'_

'_Can you translate it?' Angel asked Wesley. Wesley furrowed his brow, as he traced his fingertips across the strings of letters. 'Most of it. Definitely scripture. It's a history of the Kun-sun-Dai,' he looked up at the others. 'They're acolytes of The Beast, alright.'_

'_So that's why we couldn't find anything on Beastie-boy in the books?' Gunn asked, ''cause these guys are walking round with it on their asses?'_

_Doyle was frowning, 'It's a good job he's freakishly hairless,' he noted - looking at the shaman's smooth skin, 'you think that's a prerequisite of joinin' the order, or do you think these guys wax?'_

'_Why - are you thinking of joining?' Cordy arched her eyebrow at him. _

'_No … I'm just sayin' - I've not seen a guy that freakishly hairless since … Angel.'_

'_Have you ever considered it's not them that's the freakish ones, huh?' she said, 'maybe it's just you that's part chimpanzee.'_

'_Hey! - ' he began to protest, but Angel cut them off, not interested in hearing them argue. 'Guys,' he said, 'now's not the time.' He turned to Wesley, 'you got anything?' _

'_There's a passage here,' he said, rolling the shaman's clothing down further. 'Difficult to - Fred could you…' He took hold of Fred's wrist and guided her hand so she was holding the flashlight in a better position. Wesley then began to scan the passage with his magnifying glass. 'It's detailing the acolyte's victory over the Bosh M'ad back in the… third century, sometime.' _

'_What's a Bosh … whatever you said?' Cordelia asked. _

'_Opposers of the awakening,' Wesley read. 'The Bosh M'ad forged something to destroy The Beast… 'the tooth of light'.' _

'_They made a tooth?' Fred wrinkled her nose - not understanding. Wesley clarified a little. To the best of his understanding, it was a weapon of some sort. But it had never been used. The awakening had still been centuries away - and, in the meantime, every last one of the Bosh M'ad had been wiped out by The Beast's acolytes. _

'_So - this tooth thing must've got them pretty worried,' Fred said. 'What happened to it?'_

'_Never found it,' Wesley replied - still reading from the shaman's skin, 'the opposers kept it hidden.' _

_Gunn rolled his eyes in annoyance and crossed his arms across his chest. 'Great,' he said, heavily, 'so now we got to look for a tooth in a haystack.' _

'_We don't even know what the weapon …' Angel was saying - but he cut himself off when he saw Doyle bring his hand up to his head, grip his brow in pain, and stumble backward. Quick with his vampire reflexes, Angel caught the half demon, before he could fall to the ground, and held him up as the images swarmed into his mind. Once the vision pain seemed to have subsided, the vampire helped steady him on his feet - and then asked the important question, 'what did you see?'_

'_I saw it - the tooth thing, man. It's a sword. The sword of Bosh m'ad - and we can get to it. It's right here, under the city.' _

'_Well, that's a break,' Fred said. She sounded a little sceptical. 'This is his second vision today,' she said to the others. 'First The Powers send him a message about Angelus and now about the sword? The last vision was a bust … how can we trust this one?'_

'_I'm just the messenger, darlin'.' Doyle said to her, 'I know where the sword is - how to get to it… but I don't know anymore than the rest of y' about if it's safe or if it'll work. We just have to trust that The Powers are workin' on our side.' _

'_They always have before,' Cordelia pointed out. 'Angel is their champion,' she gave the vampire an admiring glance, 'and they sent Doyle to help him, those visions are sent so that Angel can do good in this world. Maybe the last vision wasn't a bust. Without trying to bring back Angelus we never would have brought teenage ninja shaman dude here - and it's his extreme body art that has taught us the only information we've learned about The Beast, so far. We have no choice but to believe Doyle's visions and anyway - they're bound to be true… because Angel is a real champion and the PTB believe in him.' _

'_Sounds good enough to me,' Gunn said, nodding, sticking his hands in his pockets. Angel nodded as well, 'right - so there's a sword.' He turned to Wesley , 'you hear that - a sword to kill The Beast. And you wanted to turn me into Angelus by having an evil shaman cut off my head. Not that that wasn't a swell plan, too.' _

'_Sorry,' Wesley got to his feet and walked towards the stairs. His head was hung low as he went. Angel followed him, 'was that - an apology?' he asked. Wesley stopped on the second step and turned back to face the vampire. 'I was careless,' he admitted, 'made a mistake that almost cost you your life. It would have made pulling you out of the ocean a big waste of my time.' _

'_Yeah,' Angel smiled, 'that would have been a drag.' He took a step closer to the watcher, looking him in the eyes, 'you know that's the first time I've heard you apologise - about anything.' There was a long moment as they stared at each other, both of them understanding the subtext - both realising that, in this moment, with the sun gone and the world about to end, they were reaching a place of healing - of true forgiveness, for both of them. _

_Doyle came up beside them, 'so - uh - we gonna go find that sword or what?'_

* * *

_Cordelia carried a lantern, raised high above her head - as she, Doyle, Angel and Wesley made their way through the sewers. 'It's always the sewers,' she sighed, 'how many times have we ended up down here now - the four of us?'_

'_Gotta be a million a times,' Doyle replied, 'whether we're searchin' out hidden gems, or breakin' into Wolfram and Hart to steal files … we always go via the sewer tunnels.' _

'_the flickering light, the gathering gloom…' Wesley said, looking around him, 'I'm rather reminded of that time we went down into the sea caves to kill the ethros demon.'_

'_Or it's like the time we had to go down into the subway to find the body of that doped up Kwaini -' Cordelia remembered, 'you guys were such wusses at hacking it up. I had to do all the gross parts - and then I got stuck on following detail to boot.' _

'_Yes - we certainly have been through a lot together, beneath this city,' Wesley said thoughtfully, 'are you sure this is the way?' He asked Doyle. The Irishman nodded - he had seen clearly enough where they needed to head, in his vision. _

'_There's one thing I don't get, though,' Angel said. The others turned to look at him, expectantly. 'How is it that a sword from the third century is conveniently located here in Los Angeles?'_

'_It's not,' Doyle told him, 'at least … not exactly. It's a mystical whosit. I got the impression that it's accessible from about a hundred different places all across the world. He who hunts the sword can find the whosit.' _

'_Like - destiny,' Cordelia nodded,'like you and that beacon - you were always gonna find it and destroy it, no matter what.'_

'_Kind of,' the Irishman agreed. 'Sometimes, mystical objects just pull you in. And sometimes they're meant for one person and one person alone. Like the beacon for me - and the Shanshu prophecy for Angel.' _

'_Right,' Cordelia suddenly grinned, 'hey - wouldn't it be great if this was the apocalypse the Shanshu prophecy was talking about? And after Angel kills The Beast he gets his reward?' _

'_It would definitely give us a certain element of closure,' Wesley agreed, 'together we could finish what we started all those years ago. Just the four of us.' _

'_We've all come a long way since then,' Angel said, not yet ready to believe that his prize could be so close, that this was the end of days he was prophesied to avert. If he was made human now - he would get to live his mortal life with his family; with his brothers and with Cordelia. He wouldn't have to watch them grow old - grow away from him. He wouldn't have to watch his own infant son die of old age - whilst he remained eternally youthfully. He couldn't afford to get his hopes up. But his friends had got their hopes up for him: 'And this would bring everything back full circle,' Wesley said._

_..._

_After a while longer, walking through the tunnels, the lantern cast it's flickering light onto an opening in the wall - and they found a way down, even further beneath the city. It was a steep gradient, and the floor was slippery and uneven. They edged down slowly, placing their feet sidewards and holding hands to help each other balance. _

_Once at the bottom, they found themselves in a wider cavern. Cordelia held up the lantern - and the light revealed a ribbon hanging from the ceiling, with a bell attached to the end. As they peered around, down the corridor leading away, they could see that there were hundreds of such ribbons and bells, blocking the way forward. 'What is this?' Cordelia asked, uneasily. 'Holiday decorations left over from some S&M bondage party?'_

'_They gotta be here for a reason, I'm thinkin',' Doyle said, 'and - knowin' our luck - it's probably no reason good. Remember the never endin' maze at the ballet? It's always somethin' dark and twisted...'_

_He inhaled, sharply, as he watched Angel reach out and give one of the bells a tug. As the bell jingled, a dozen wooden stakes sprang out from the walls - firing at them, only missing Angel's heart by inches. 'Wood,' the vampire groaned, 'why did it have to be wood?'_

'_It's like they knew you were comin',' Doyle patted him on the shoulder. _

'_Which kinda backs up our whole 'destiny' theory,' Cordelia said. _

_Wesley was looking around, 'we have to pass through the corridor without ringing any of the bells,' he told them. Doyle raised his eyebrows, 'uh - that might require a feat of acrobatics that I, for one, am not up to - all that duckin' and weavin' and twistin' … hey, can we crawl?'_

'_Come on,' Angel whispered, leading the way. Cordelia sighed, as she began to follow him, edging around the bells - twisting in the space between them to avoid brushing the ribbons. 'I always knew you three would get me into trouble one day,' she said to them._

_..._

_The four of them moved at a glacial pace, turning and twisting to avoid the ribbons and to prevent the bells from jingling, as they passed. 'Cordelia, freeze,' Wesley suddenly hissed. She stopped dead, 'your sleeve,' he told her. She had got the sleeve of her coat caught on a ribbon, and he gently pulled the bell from her - straightening the ribbon so that the bell wouldn't ring once he let go. They all stood still for a moment - silent, tense and waiting. And then - Cordelia was free and the bell stayed quiet - and they all breathed a sigh of relief. A moment later, Doyle reached the end of the corridor and stepped clear of the ribbons. Cordelia followed him out. But - just as Wesley was also about to clear the final ribbon, his lantern tapped the bell. _

'_Move!' Angel yelled - and used all his vampire speed to push both him and Wesley clear of the ribbons and out to safety. The wooden stakes fired harmlessly, behind them - but now they found themselves at the end of the corridor, up against a wall - and with nowhere to go. 'Oh no!' Cordelia cried, sounding more annoyed than frightened, 'who booby traps a dead end? That's just not right.' _

_Wesley held up his lantern to the wall to inspect it - hoping to find a hidden keyhole or a loose stone or ... something. What he found, instead, were markings scratched into the wall. 'There's something here,' he told the others. Angel peered at the letters, placed seemingly at random on the stone surface. 'Assyrian?' he asked._

'_Hebrew,' Wesley corrected, 'Rashi script.' _

'_Man - it's a good job the Watcher's Academy was so big into teachin' languages and translating fancy alphabets,' Doyle said. 'All the Catholic Brotherhood bothered to teach at their schools was Irish and French. Nothin' we ever need translatin' is ever in Irish or French … so what was the point o' all the years of misery?'_

'_You failed your Irish exam,' Cordelia pointed out to him, 'I don't think you were paying attention throughout the misery - so it wouldn't help, even if every other week we had a prophecy _as gaeilge_.' Both Angel and Doyle turned to look at Cordelia in surprise. 'What?' she said to them, 'you think I don't ever listen? I know some Irish words_ go raibh míle maith agat_.'_

'_Well… that was weirdly erotic,' Angel said. 'You really learned some Irish?'_

'_What? I can't have layers?'_

_He was smiling at her - in proud amazement, 'you really are something else, you know, Cordy? I've never met anyone quite like you.'_

'_Well - duh! How's the translating going, Wes?' _

'_It's just random letters,' the watcher told the others - still scrutinising each character by the light oh his lantern. 'Unless…' he reached out and pressed one of the stones which bore a letter. The stone depressed inward and the wall creaked and groaned and lifted about a foot of the floor. 'That's it!' Cordelia's eyes shone with excitement, 'you did …' the wall slammed back downward, 'you didn't.' Her face fell._

_But Wesley was less discouraged. He thought he understood - there was a pattern to it. A sequence they had to press the letters in, in order to raise the wall. Hebrew letters all carried with them a numerical value. Aleph - the one he had just pressed was number one. So - in ascending order - the next letter in the pattern would be … he scanned, again, 'He. 5' he said - pressing that letter. But - instead of pressing inward - this time the stone released a bronze spike that impaled Wesley right through his palm. He groaned in agony. 'What happened? What happened?' Angel asked. Wesley ripped his hand away and they all stared at his bloody palm. Doyle whistled, 'I'm guessin' he got it wrong,' he said._

'_I don't understand,' Wesley complained, as Cordelia took hold of his hand, gently. She had ripped a strip from her shirt and was now bandaging the wound. 'I don't know what else…' he stared at the stones again, his brow furrowed. And then his expression cleared, 'that's it!' he exclaimed, 'nine stones! It's not their numerical value. These are the letters of the first antediluvian patriarchs in Genesis.'_

'_That would have been my next guess,' Cordelia said, wryly - finishing up the bandaging. _

'_Ante di whatian?' Doyle asked - looking confused. _

'_Diluvian,' Angel told him, 'pre flood.'_

'_Oh right - Noah, yeah? Two of every animal. The Watcher's Academy covered all this stuff, as well? … y' woulda thought the Catholic Brotherhood woulda been all over this… maybe it's too Old Testament. Man, was I short changed at school!'_

'_Uhuh-' Angel wasn't really listening to him, he was waiting for Wesley to come up with the next step in the pattern. 'So, which one do we press?'_

'_Aleph was Adam,' Wesley said, referring to the stone he had already successfully pressed, 'so - in ascending order - the next one would be... shin for Seth. That one,' he pointed to the letter which represented the second patriarch. Angel pressed it and the wall lifted again. It lifted higher this time - about two feet off the ground - but it closed again before they could get under it. 'Now what?' Angel sighed, as they were faced, once more, by an impassable barrier. _

'_Kaf for Cainan,' Wesley told him._

'_Which one's Kaf?' _

_Wesley pointed to a letter high up on the wall surface, 'maybe that one,' he said. _

'_Maybe?' Cordelia sounded less than impressed, 'I don't have enough shirt to bandage you both.' Angel glanced back at her - a slightly wistful expression in his eyes as he caught sight of the trace of bare skin, where she had already torn her shirt, and imagined her ripping the next piece off - like a first aid version of the dance of the seven veils. _

_He pressed the stone Wesley had indicated - and the wall lifted again. Three feet this time. He dashed beneath it and braced the wall on his back - holding it up, so the others could get under. But it was heavy - and he was struggling. And then Doyle had turned demon face and was under the wall with him - using his own extra strength to help support the wall. Cordelia and Wesley crawled beneath the stone barrier their friends were holding up - and then straightened up when they got to the other side. _

_The wall seemed to be getting heavier - it was harder and harder to hold. Angel looked at Doyle, 'you go,' he said - hoping he could hold it long enough to stop his half demon friend from getting squished. But Doyle shook his head, 'both of us,' he said to Angel, 'together.'_

_Angel nodded. 'Now!' he yelled - and they both broke away from the wall and rolled beneath it - as it slammed shut behind them. Cordelia held her hand out and helped Angel back to his feet. Doyle morphed back into his human face, as he scrambled back to his own feet. _

_The group looked around. They were in a room which had two paths leading in opposite directions. 'Which way now?' Angel asked. Doyle shrugged, 'I'm afraid the vision didn't come with a treasure map, bud.' _

'_We should split up,' Wesley suggested. Angel nodded - and sent Doyle and Wesley off together in one direction, while he and Cordelia followed the other path. She took his hand, as she walked, smiling up at him in the darkness. 'You know, this is nice,' she said. 'I mean, sure - the sun has gone, the world's about to end and we're only here as it's our only chance of defeating an unkillable nasty but … you, me, flickering lantern light. It's almost romantic.'_

'_Most of the romance we ever see includes trips out to kill unkillable nasties,' Angel replied._

'_Yeah - violence, sex, romance … it's all pretty much the same…' she went up on her tiptoes, leaning in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned down - but just as their lips were an inch apart, she suddenly pulled away. 'Woah,' she breathed. _

_Angel twisted round to watch as she wandered off the path, 'what?' he called after her, 'we were in the middle of … we had a thing, what?' He followed on after her._

_..._

_Cordelia had wandered into a large, underground room. Unlike the caverns, outside, this one was brightly lit - although there was no obvious light source; no torches, no daylight, no electric lights. But still - it was like the whole room was lit by bright, shining, natural light; allowing them to see their surroundings, clearly, for the first time since they had come underground. There were stone columns supporting the ceiling and a huge stone pedestal in the middle of the room. _

'_This has got to be the place,' Cordelia said, walking round the edge of the pedestal, gazing up at the high ceilings, 'hasn't it?'_

'_Maybe.'_

'_So - where's the sword?' She sighed, 'great - it's gone. Way to send us on a wild goose chase, Doyle.' _

'_Maybe,' Angel repeated. _

'_What 'maybe'? I don't see it, do you?'_

'_No.' He gazed around, blinking in the light, 'but this light must be coming from somewhere.' He held his hand out - so it was hovering above the pedestal - and it disappeared into thin air. There was a disturbance in the atmosphere, though, the light rippled around his arm. Cordelia stared. A sphere of bright, silvery, white light appeared just above the pedestal - with Angel's hand stuck inside it. He reached into the sphere, feeling around. _

'_It's some kind of dimensional hub,' he said, beginning to understand. Here he was, stood in a cave beneath Los Angeles - and his arm was reaching out into the spaces between the dimensional walls - everywhere at once. 'That's why the sword can be in a hundred different places at the same time,' he explained, remembering what Doyle had said, earlier. Inside the sphere of light, his hand happened upon the thing he was looking for. He grasped the hilt and pulled the sword out of the sphere - Like King Arthur, bringing forth Excalibur from the enchanted lake on Avalon. He stared up the blade, admiring it. A broad smile began to play across his face. 'I'd say things are starting to look…'_

_Above the pedestal - the bright sphere of light changed colour, from a pure silverish white to a burning red. And it began to pulse - becoming unstable; shaking violently in the air. The whole room had taken on the red, fiery tinge of the sphere now - and the bloody hued light tinged Cordelia's skin - casting her in red relief against the dark shadows. 'Uh - Angel,' she looked unnerved as the vibrating sphere began to sink out of the air. It came to rest upon the pedestal and then disappeared - throwing them all into darkness. 'Can we get out of here now?' she asked. _

_But then the darkness was lit up by the red glow, once again, as flames burst forth from the floor. The whole room began to shake - the floor buckling beneath their feet - and the columns, supporting the ceiling, began to tumble down; chunks of the roof following suit. The flames shot across the middle of the room - separating Cordelia and Angel from each other. 'Cordy!' he called out her name. _

'_Angel!' she screamed out - as a pillar came tumbling down on top of her..._


	39. Awakening: Part Three

_Part Three_

'_Angel!' She screamed again, as the stone column fell straight towards her. She threw her hands out above her head to try and shield herself from the impact._

'_Hang on!' Angel yelled. He braced himself and then leapt through the wall of flames that separated them, and pushed her out of the way of the tumbling pillar. She was coughing and spluttering, as the air became thick with smoke - choking out all the oxygen. He wrapped his arm around her and ushered her - quickly - towards the exit._

_Behind them, the flames grew more intense and the ground rattled and shook beneath their feet. As they crossed the threshold, back out into the dark passage - back into the clean air - they stumbled and fell to the ground, just clear of the danger zone. Cordelia landed on top of Angel, breathing heavily. She caught sight of the rescued sword, sticking out just behind where Angel lay - and her eyes grew wide. 'Oh my God - are you?...'_

'_No, no,' he was quick to reassure her - pulling the sword out from behind him and showing it to her, 'I'm good, see? I missed the pointy end.' _

_Cordelia let out a breath of relief and then wrapped her arms around Angel's neck - holding him tight. She began to cry. He wrapped his own arms around her, in return, though he didn't understand why she was crying 'What is it? Shhh… hey… shhhh.'_

'_We could have died,' she said to him, through her tears, her face still buried against his neck. _

'_But we didn't.' _

'_What if we had?' She pulled back and looked deep into his eyes, 'what if we had been deep fried trying to save the world? And I … I didn't have the chance to tell you.'_

'_Tell me what?'_

'_That I love you.'_

'_You do?'_

_She nodded. 'It's you Angel. It's always been you. I was only ever kidding myself that I could ever love anyone else. That I could feel for anybody else what I feel for you. And - I've always felt it, Angel. Always. We spent so long waiting to get started. I spent so long ... pretending. Pretending that I wasn't in love with you. Pretending that I loved... other people.' _

'_I feel the same way,' he told her, reaching out to stroke the short hair framing her face._

_She leaned her head against his and breathed out her next words. 'We've wasted so much time,' she told him, 'and we could have been killed - without me ever getting to experience properly being with the love of my life.' She brushed her lips against his, gently and tenderly. He cupped her face with his hand and kissed her back - with more intensity. When they broke apart, Cordelia was breathing heavily, again. They looked up. _

_Doyle and Wesley were stood right above them. Watching them. And - from the look on Doyle's face - he had heard every word. _

_Cordelia gasped, 'Doyle,' she started to say. But the Irishman did not want to hear her platitudes. He just turned and began to walk away - his face hard, masking his heartbreak. _

'_Doyle!' Angel called after him, he struggled back to his feet, 'Doyle - wait up!' Leaving Cordelia and Wesley behind, he followed the half demon back down the dark pathway._

* * *

_When he finally caught up with Doyle, the Irishman was standing, stock still, in another large room - just off the path, as the room with the sword had been. This one was lit by torches, flickering on the walls, casting shadows on the rocky sides of the cavern. The floor was sandy beneath their feet. _

'_Doyle?' Angel said, keeping his voice low. Doyle turned to look at him. He had his hands on his hips, as if he were thinking about something, long and hard. 'This room's booby trapped y'know,' Doyle said. _

'_That's why you stopped.'_

'_Well - I'm a bit stuck. See, if I do this…' he took a step forward and triggered one of the traps. A dart flew out from the wall. Doyle ducked and it buried itself deep into Angel's shoulder. Doyle straightened up again and saw the damage. 'That happens,' he finished up._

_Angel glanced down at the dart sticking out of him. He ripped it out - and winced. 'Ow - that hurt.' _

'_Oh yeah - the big champion. I can see why it's always been you.' _

'_Look - Doyle, what Cordelia said … I'm sure she loved you.'_

'_Oh you're sure are y'?' He chuckled, it was dark and mirthless. 'And what makes you so sure, now? Considerin' what she just said.'_

'_She was scared,' Angel told him, 'she was … reacting to a near death experience…'_

_But Doyle laughed that bitter laugh again, 'Cordelia doesn't get scared over little things like near death experiences, bud. She's been havin' 'em every week since she was 16 years old. You think a bit of flames and a shakin' floor is gonna upset her that much? That she feels the need to unburden herself o' every little secret in case she never gets the chance to tell anyone? No - she made a clear, hard headed decision to say those things to y'. And we both know it. So don't come here, now, and tell me that you're sure she loved me too. 'Cause that's not what she just said, is it?'_

'_I think …' Angel struggled to keep his voice even, to come up with a diplomatic way to talk through this. He didn't want Doyle to hurt. But he wanted what Cordelia had just said to be true. 'I think … matters of the heart … they can be more complicated than Cordy just allowed for.'_

_Doyle snorted, derisively, and looked away. He crossed his arms across his chest - forming a barrier, as if to protect against heartache. _

'_No - I mean it,' Angel insisted. 'I remember how it was between the two of you. She felt for you. She did. And - at the time - it probably felt a lot like real love.'_

'_But it wasn't real. She was pinin' for you, all along.'_

'_But I don't think she realised that, at the time,' Angel insisted. 'I remember the way she would look at you, speak to you. The way she took care of you. I watched it all. God - I was so jealous of what you had…'_

'_That you just couldn't stop y'self from takin' it,' Doyle interrupted, His face was twisted in anger - and his words came out as a snarl. 'Couldn't stop y'self from gettin' in between us, forcin' us apart - ruinin' everythin' for me - just so you could get exactly what you wanted.' _

'_No, Doyle,' It was Cordelia who spoke. She had caught up with them, at last, and was standing in the doorway to the chamber. Her voice was soft - but firm. 'It wasn't _Angel _who ruined everything between us.' _

_Doyle opened his mouth - as if to fire back a retort. But then he closed it again, and bit his lip. His arms fell limply down to his sides and - after a moment of staring at Cordelia - he just nodded and began to walk out of the room; his shoulders hunched, his head hanging low - not caring that he triggered the last of the darts as he left._

'_Doyle - ' Angel began to call after him. But Cordelia shook her head. 'Just let him go,' she said, 'just - leave him be.'_

* * *

_When Angel, Cordelia and Wesley returned to the Hyperion, they found Gunn and Fred sat on the red sofa. Gunn had his arm wrapped around Fred and she had her head rested on his shoulder. They were looking through the books - which were spread out around them. _

_Lorne was looking after Connor. They were down on the floor, on the play mat, playing with Connor's train set. _

'_Oh my God!' Fred said, when she looked up and saw them walking in - and took in the state of them; the cuts; the bruises; the bandages and torn clothes and the soot stains. _

'_I thought you guys might be dead,' Gunn said - looking relieved that they had all come back in one piece. Lorne, however, was looking at the sword held in Angel's hand. 'Is that it?' he asked. _

'_The sword of Bosh m'ad,' Cordelia nodded. The slayer of The Beast._

'_Oh,' Gunn's expression was excited, 'can I play with it?' He took the sword from Angel and began to swirl it around his head - feinting and parrying with an imaginary opponent._

_Fred was frowning, 'where's Doyle?' She asked. There was an awkward silence. Neither Cordelia nor Angel were sure what to say. Then, Wesley cleared his throat, 'patrolling,' he answered, tersely. That seemed good enough an explanation for Fred, and Wesley took the opportunity to change the subject. 'Now,' he said, 'we have the sword. So all we need to do is…'_

_He was cut off by a loud clatter in the background. They all turned to look. Gunn had managed to cut a table in half with his enthusiastic flailing of the sword. He looked back up at them, abashed, 'my bad.' _

'_All we need to do,' Wesley carried on, 'is locate The Beast.'_

_But that would prove to be more problematic than finding the sword had been - especially as Doyle was not around to have any incredibly well timed visions. And Lorne had not had much luck asking around in the demon underworld. Most of his connections had taken the opportunity to amscray to other dimensions that were currently a little lighter on stomping entrails out. 'All I could kolchak was a rumour of bad mojo rising down in the warehouse district,' he told them - still playing with Connor's trains._

_But - as leads went - it was better than nothing. 'That's where we'll start,' Angel said, nodding his thanks. But Fred called out to him before he could turn and leave. 'Wait!' she scrambled to her feet and brought one of the books over to where the newly returned warriors were standing - showing them one page in particular. 'We found some relevant passages in the Paranych Grimoire,' she told them. 'And we've been able to cross reference them with Wo Pang's - um - butt.' She smiled, uneasily. _

'_Either he's got one hell of a funky mole. Or we figure there's only one way to kill the Beast,' Gunn said._

_Wesley looked between the pair of them. 'How?' He asked Fred. _

'_Piercing it's brain with the Bosh m'ad,' she replied. _

_Angel nodded again - that sounded like a plan to him. But Cordelia still had questions. 'What about the sun?' she asked. _

'_One good poke in the coconut should take care of that, too,' Gunn told her. Fred was quick to clarify with more detail. 'When The Beast is dead, the energies used to block the sun should be released.' _

_But that sounded too good to be true. Too easy. And Wesley was not inclined to accept it at face value, 'there's a catch, isn't there?' he asked. Fred smiled a little, at his perception. He was right. Of course he was. 'One small, intsy…' she started to say. Cordelia rolled her eyes, 'always with the fine print,' she sighed. _

_It was Gunn who started to explain. It had taken a whole lot of power to pull off permanent midnight. Angel caught on quickly - and all that energy would be released once The Beast was killed. 'As far as we can figure from the test,' Fred said to him, 'nothing human will survive at that close range. I'm not even sure that you can.'_

_He thought about that for a moment. 'I'll let you know,' he said. Cordelia looked at him in horror. 'You are not going to fight this thing by yourself!' The last time he had squared off against The Beast, he'd had every man on his team with him - and they'd all come back with their butts fairly and squarely kicked. Angel had got thrown off the side of the building! The sword might be the only weapon forged that could kill The Beast - but it didn't make Angel any stronger - or more powerful. He still didn't stand much of a chance of getting close enough to strike the killer blow. Especially not if he went in alone. _

_But Angel just shrugged all that off. He couldn't take his mortal team members into battle, if a lucky hit would end in a blast similar in force to a small nuclear explosion. He had to do this alone. 'There isn't a choice,' he said._

'_There's always a choice!' _

'_Not for me,' he tuned to look at all his friends. They meant so much to him - they were always there for him. Even when he kicked them out and threw them out into the cold; they were there to welcome him back. And when it seemed like some of them had committed the worst betrayal they could possibly devise; it had all been done in an act of love and protection. And now - now was his chance to show them that he appreciated all they did. Time for him to pay back all they had done for him. 'I have to do this,' he said to them. They all looked back at him. 'You've made a difference,' he told them, 'each of you - not just to me, but to the world. We've been pushed to the edge so many times. Done things we're sure can never be forgiven,' he looked at Wesley - they held each other's gaze for a moment, and then Angel smiled and continued. 'But we're always there for each other when it counts. We've never let the darkness win. And it's not because of The Powers That Be, or the super strength, or the magical weapons. It's because we believed in each other. Not just as friends,' he glanced at Cordy, 'or as lovers,' he looked at them all, again, 'but as champions. All of us. Together.' _

_He nodded his head - and then walked away from the group, heading for the door. But Cordelia caught up to him. She reached out and grabbed him with both hands, forcing him to a halt, and then leaned in to speak to him; keeping her voice at a whisper. 'Angel, wait. You just said it. We're stronger together. You can't do this alone.'_

_He smiled down at her, and tenderly caressed her face. 'I'm not.' But she yanked her head away from him and looked impatient. Her voice, when next she spoke, had a bite to it. 'Drop the hallmark crap,' she hissed. 'That might placate the shiny-happys over there, but I'm working with a little more investment, here.' She stood closer to him, and looked into his eyes. Her voice became soft, once more. 'I can't lose you,' she told him. 'Not now. Not when we're just starting out. Not when we have - whatever this is … whatever it could be.' _

_He leaned down towards her, their foreheads were now touching. 'We'll figure it out when I get back.' _

'_What if you don't?'_

_He smiled again, 'not gonna happen.' But tears were now standing out in Cordelia's eyes, threatening to spill over - and his confidence was not comforting her. 'You don't know that.' _

_He stroked her face again. 'Hey, I've never been more sure of anything. I'll come back, Cordelia, I promise. For you. But first - I gotta do this. I gotta find The Beast…'_

_..._

_The front wall of the hotel was suddenly ripped away. The glass of the windows smashed and the brickwork tumbled to the ground. The Beast stood there, roaring. Angel looked up at it. 'Oh - there it is,' he said._


	40. Awakening: Part Four

_Part Four_

_The Beast stared down at the small group huddled in the Lobby, gazing back up at him in shock. 'I grow weary of your cowardice, Angelus,' it said - its voice rumbling as if it came from the very core of the earth, itself. 'If you will not stand with me, then suffer the agony of my wrath.' Then, it noticed the blade, which Angel still held in his hand. 'Is that what I think it is?'_

_Angel looked round at his friends, 'go!' he urged them. Lorne scooped Connor up into his arms - as the others scuttled towards the weapons cabinet. 'No!' Angel yelled at them, 'Get out of here!'_

_He took a step forward and swung his sword at The Beast. He heard Cordelia object - but he kept his eyes on the towering demon in front of him - slashing his blade through the air, so fast it blurred. 'All of you!' he shouted. 'I can't do this with you here.'_

_Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gunn and Wes grab Cordelia and start to bundle her out of the hotel. Lorne and Fred had gone ahead, Connor safely in Lorne's arms - but Cordelia was still fighting to get back to the man she loved. 'No!' she cried, struggling to free herself from the strong grip of the men. 'Angel!' But Wesley held her firmly, and ushered her out of the hotel._

_Meanwhile, Angel's wild swings with the sword had managed to penetrate The Beast's skin - where no weapon had succeeded in the past. The Beast looked down at the little cuts. 'That stings,' it said. _

'_Not as much as it's gonna.'_

_The Beast looked impatient. 'We could rule this world. Why do you oppose me?'_

'_Rain of fire. Blocking out the sun. Plus, you just kinda piss me off.' He charged towards the demon - blade at the ready. He got in a few good blows, but then The Beast smacked him away again. He hit the floor and slid across the lobby. 'It does not have to be this way, Angelus.'_

_Angel got back to his feet, gripped the sword and then launched his next offensive. 'I'm thinking it does.' But The Beast backhanded him again and then grabbed the sword by its blade. It held the sword in its palm and squeezed until the blade broke in half. It then threw the damaged remains away and grabbed Angel by the throat, lifting him from the ground. 'Did __you really think you would win?' _

_Angel gripped at the massive hands of The Beast, around his throat. But it was no good. The Beast was too strong - and he could not free himself. He just dangled helplessly in the air, with no escape but to wait for The Beast to get bored and rip his head off. He closed his eyes... _

… _and felt The Beast suddenly stagger forward. There was a loud clanging sound - like metal hitting rock. Angel opened his eyes, again, to see Doyle - in demon face - attacking The Beast from behind with his battle axe. Angel was dropped to the floor, unceremoniously, in a heap. _

_The Beast turned to face Doyle. He looked unimpressed. 'The seer stands by his champion,' it sneered, 'the sidekick joining with the hero in death.'_

'_More like in kickin' your ass, bud.' He swung his battle axe again - and again there was the loud clanging noise of metal on rock. The Beast didn't even flinch. As Doyle set to work hitting out at The Beast, Angel crawled along the ground - trying to reach the broken blade of the sword. _

'_So, Angelus, this tiny half breed is your only hope in standing against me?' The Beast asked - as it plucked the battle axe out of Doyle's hand and then pushed the Irishman away from himself, sending him flying across the room. He landed right on top of Angel. He groaned, as he rolled off the vampire. 'I think I hated that plan,' he said. _

'_What are you doing here?' Angel hissed, as he finally gripped the broken sword. _

'_What? You didn't think I'd ever leave y' to face somethin' this big alone, did y', man?' He smiled - and Angel got to his feet, diving at The Beast. He used the broken blade to skewer the demon's skull; driving it deep into his brain. 'Consider your ass kicked,' Angel said. _

_The Beast began to glow red - the cracks in his skin, which had always looked like fiery orange rivers of magma flowing beneath the surface, grew wider. Soon, The Beast was engulfed in a giant, pulsating sphere of redness - as if the lava beneath his skin was now forcing its way outwards. The light streamed from his eyes and mouth - and he screamed out, bellowing in agony, before he then turned to dust and crumbled away before their very eyes. _

_And - as The Beast disintegrated into nothing - the darkness covering the sun began to dissolve. The blackness fell away bit by bit, like it was melting - and then the sky was blue, once more - and the sun was shining high; casting it's warm and life giving rays down onto the city below. _

_The two men turned and looked at each other. Both were smiling. 'You came back,' Angel said; a little hesitant, like he wasn't sure why - but grateful, all the same. _

'_My place is at your side,' Doyle said to him, he shook off his demon face. Underneath the spikes, he, too, was smiling. His smile was rueful - as if he had just come to a great understanding, and was feeling foolish to have not seen it before. He shook his head, 'and that's not just 'cause The Powers send me mind numbing, head crackin' vision migraines,' he told Angel, 'it's 'cause you're my friend. My brother. We're walkin' the same road.' _

'_The road to redemption,' Angel said softly._

'_It's a rocky path,' Doyle said - then he looked Angel dead in the eyes, 'but we'll get there. You and me.' _

_Angel nodded. He felt - at this moment - like Doyle understand him exactly; knew what he was feeling; where he was coming from. It had always been that way, in the olden days. When they were just starting out, Doyle had always been the one to read the vampire's moods and to know when to bring him out of himself, or when to let him wallow. It had been such a warmth and comfort to know he had a friend who understood him exactly. But Angel hadn't felt that closeness between him and his seer in a long time - in years. Not since … not since Darla, he supposed - and the mad vendetta with Wolfram and Hart. He realised, standing there in the lobby - just him and Doyle - just how much he had missed their connection._

_Because, all of a sudden, it was like all that had transpired between them had washed away; all that pain; all that betrayal - on both sides. And what was left, now, was the same as it had always been, the way it was meant to be: two demon brothers, who had fallen short of the champion mark and were fighting to put that right - supporting each other the whole way._

_There was just one final thing standing between them, now. And it needed addressing, if everything was going to be right between them - the way it had been at first. 'Look,' Angel said, 'about Cordelia…'_

_But Doyle cut him off. 'Forget it,' he said. Angel looked surprised - so Doyle took a deep breath and started to explain. 'I've done some thinkin' and … she made her choice.' He shook his head, and smiled a little sadly. 'I was never good enough for her,' he admitted, 'I always knew that. Knew I didn't deserve to be with her. I guess, maybe I was hopin' she wouldn't figure that out. But - the truth is - I only ever had her on borrowed time. I know that, now.' He sighed and stuck his hands in his back pockets, shuffling his feet. 'I'll always treasure the time I had with her,' he said, 'I loved her more than anythin' - and I guess I always will. But - she needs different things, now. She needs to move on - to be with the champion she deserves to have. The champion who deserves to have her.' He shuffled his feet again, looking down awkwardly, but then he raised his head and looked Angel in the eyes - making sure he understood the importance of this last request: 'Just - make her happy, yeah? Happier than I made her.'_

_Angel nodded. 'Count on it.' _

_The door opened behind them - and the rest of the team came in. 'Doyle?' Cordelia sounded confused when she saw the half demon was there. But then she saw the pile of dust that had been The Beast - and her face split into a wide grin. 'Oh my goodness!' she threw her arms around Angel in a tight hug, 'you did it.' Angel held her close. He shot a glance over at Doyle, but the half demon just smiled - and shrugged. This was just the way things were - because it was the way Cordelia wanted them to be. _

_Angel returned Doyle's smile and then looked down at his girlfriend, 'we all did it,' he said. Lorne handed Connor over to Angel, and the vampire stood in the middle of the lobby smiling, holding his son and his girlfriend in his arms. Wesley and Gunn were grinning and shaking hands. Fred and Lorne were hugging. Doyle was smiling. Angel began to laugh. 'OK - can someone do me a favour and - uh' he indicated the pile of dust, 'sweep that up?'_

* * *

_Later, Angel stood in his hotel room - watching the sun shine down from the safety of the shadows. Out in the street - he could see all the people stopped, entranced, staring up at the sun - the delight evident on their faces. The sunlight bounced off the glass in the buildings and the metal of the cars - bright; dazzling - making everything clean and new, for those who could go outside and enjoy it. _

_Down in the courtyard garden, Fred and Gunn had taken Connor out into the sunshine - to enjoy its warmth after so many days in the dark. Angel watched on, as the young street fighter lifted the baby high in the air, whilst Connor squealed with delight. _

'_It must be hard,' Cordelia's voice was soft, as she came up behind him - watching him watch the world from his place in the gloom. 'Seeing everybody so happy because of what you did. Bringing the light back, but not being able to go out into it.'_

_He turned away from the window and turned to look at her. She was wearing a long, satin evening gown and her dark hair was curled. She looked beautiful - the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Glamorous and sensual and all for him. 'There's no place I'd rather be,' he ran his fingers through her curls, 'than here with you.' _

'_I guess maybe this wasn't the end of times in the Shanshu prophecy, though. _

''_It doesn't matter. Everything here is enough.' He leaned down - and she went on her tiptoes - and they kissed, tenderly. She wrapped her arms around his neck - wanting to kiss him more deeply. But he pulled away. 'Cordy…'_

_She leaned forward, cutting him off, 'No. Whatever it is - whatever the reason, or excuse or logic, we're here. Now. Together. I know we said to take things slow - I know we said to be careful. But the world is saved, The Beast is killed and the sun is shining. And you did all that, Angel. You. Everything is the way it's supposed to be. For once. Haven't we waited long enough?' She kissed him, again - and this time he responded. The passion of the kiss intensified and Cordelia's breathing became heavy. She started to unbutton his shirt and slid it off him. He responded by unfastening her dress and slipping the straps down her shoulders. It slid from her body, cascading downward in a satin wave, and he lifted her up and carried her to the bed._

_She fell back among the pillows and he lay above her: kissing her neck; her earlobes; moving lower down to her breasts. She writhed beneath him in pleasure, as she felt his warm kisses drop all over her body; between her breasts and down towards her navel. He could feel her pulse beating at her wrists and throat - like the frantic fluttering of butterfly wings. Her breath was hot and came quickly in short moans and pleasured gasps. Her skin was warm and blushing pink, as the blood pounded through her veins._

_He moved upwards, again, retracing his kisses, over the mound of her breasts and past the hollow of her neck, until he was kissing her lips, once more. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss. Their hands travelled across the acres of bare skin. Sometimes tickling; soft and tender - some times firmer - pressing for pleasure. Cordelia moaned and - when she was ready - he took the next step, slipping inside of her. She gasped and, for a moment, they were perfectly still - but, then, wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace; surrounding one another with their scent and their touch and their softness, they began to move slowly, rhythmically, in time. _

_Cordelia was smiling now - her eyes closed - she reached out and pulled him closer, deeper - and he was only too eager to comply; to give into her warmth and her softness and feel that comfort envelop him. He felt the waves of pleasure crashing through him, building to a crescendo of toe curling, breath stopping ecstasy … and then he felt it all go wrong. It hurt. The sudden change from pleasure to pain. A loss of control - but not in a good way. He felt a familiar sensation - something deep inside of him letting go; like an anchor being hauled from the ocean's bed - and himself, the ship being cast adrift. He knew this feeling. He had been here before - only once before - with: 'Buffy,' he gasped, in horror, as he rolled off Cordelia and lay back on the bed, panting in pain and fear. 'No. Oh God. No!' He stared up _at the ceiling of the cage, feeling the restraints binding him in place. He heard a voice from beside him. 'The vision becomes reality,' Wo Pang said to the team, 'it is done.'

He rolled his head so he could look out, through the bars of the cage, at Angel's crew standing there. The ineffectual, paranoid Brit; the dumb lunk of street muscle; the skinny scientist chick who wanted Angel so badly he could smell it and - up on the stairs - the oldest, closest friends and allies: the ridiculous, tiny halfbreed and the airheaded cheerleader that Angel now called his lady love.

The whole team stared back at him. His face broke out into a wide grin and - even though he was still strapped to the bench and locked in a cage - Angelus began to laugh and laugh; a long, loud, maniacal cackle.

* * *

**A/N FYI - I really hate writing sex scenes and I'm glad to say there will never be another. Unfortunately this one was actually plot relevant and couldn't be avoided, in all its cringe inducing, cheap erotica glory (I did try to keep the cringe factor as low as possible - this is a family appropriate story!). But now - Angel has lost his soul. Angelus is back - and that means the next episode must be 'Soulless', see you Friday. **


	41. Soulless: Part One

**Soulless**

_Part One_

Wesley stood looking at the picture, hanging on the office wall. It showed a park - in the sunlight - a far cry from their own reality. He reached out and pulled it away from the wall - opening it like a door. Behind this picture was their hidden safe. The team watched on, as he twisted the dial around to the combination; muttering the numbers under his breath, as he worked. The safe door swung open.

Cordelia held the Muo-Ping tightly in both her hands. It was lit up from the inside by the shimmering essence which swirled within it. 'Seeing Angel's soul all floaty like that makes me kinda crazy,' Fred said. There was a little furrowed line between her eyebrows, a crinkle at the top of her nose that betrayed her unease.

'It's not forever, sugar plum,' Lorne's voice was soft and soothing, 'we're just borrowing it.'

'Cordelia -' Wesley held his hands out to take the jar from her. She gave it one last glance and then, with a sharp intake of breath, handed it over to the watcher. 'Don't drop it,' Fred said. Wesley glanced over his shoulder at her, nodded, and then placed the container inside the safe; closing the safe door, locking it and disguising it behind the picture, once more. He turned to the rest of the team. 'Angel is gone,' he said - his voice was grim.

'I can't believe …' Cordelia started to say, before she shook her head and went quiet. Doyle gave her an uneasy glance. 'We've got it safe,' he said to her, 'his soul. It's not like last time - in Sunnydale. Angel's not lost, this time, yeah?'

'Yeah but still…' the furrow in Gunn's brow matched Fred's exactly, 'taking out Angel's soul - putting it in a jar. I hope we know what we're doing ...'

'If Angelus knows how to destroy The Beast, it's all we've got,' Wesley told them. This was the kind of tough decisions they were taught to make at the Watcher's Academy. The others had not had this rigorous training - from their earliest infancy - to understand that, in the service of the greater good, sacrifices had to be made; strange alliances forged; dark paths taken in order to end up in a place of light. Promising to protect this sorry world meant having to say and do what others couldn't - what they shouldn't have to. This was putting into practice everything he had learned from childhood. Though - he still didn't want to imagine what his father would say if he heard they were turning to Angelus, of all people, looking for help.

'Before Angelus was ensouled,' he told them all, 'his viciousness was mythic. You all know his history.'

Killing, maiming, torture, dead goldfish and nailing puppies to walls - they'd all had reason to read up on Angelus during their time on the team, and Cordelia had helped fill in a lot of blanks. 'There's only one thing Angelus will be focused on,' Wesley said, 'getting free, so he can slaughter us all.'

'We are his only links to humanity,' Cordelia explained, 'this is … this is how he works. Angelus will want to destroy anything that reminds him of what it is to feel love. It was how he was back in Sunnydale, back with …' she trailed off.

'Buffy.' Doyle finished the sentence for her. Cordelia looked down at her feet. 'And if it was the slayer that was his main target back in the day,' Doyle turned to look at Wesley, his eyes questioning, 'then it's Cordelia who's in most danger, right now, I'm thinkin'. Is that right?'

Wesley nodded. 'Cordelia will definitely be one of his first targets - should he get free,' he looked at the woman, 'though we will make every effort to ensure that doesn't happen,' he assured her. 'But she will not be the only one - nor will she be the most defenceless.' He turned to where Kali was stood, holding Connor; the Groosalug stood beside her. 'Angel's son will be Angelus' first target,' he said to the undefeated champion. 'You must protect him.' He stared long and hard at the baby in the demon woman's arms, 'with your life.' His voice wavered, as if he were suppressing a deep emotion. 'Nothing matters more to me … or to Angel.'

'We'll take him upstairs, out of the way,' Kali said - looking up from the infant she held. 'The Groosalug will be able to protect him,' she smiled, admiringly, up at the undefeated champion - and the pair of them took Connor out of the office and deeper into the hotel. Doyle watched them go. 'She seems to have moved on from me,' he said, his voice a little wistful. He caught the others looking at him, 'which is a good thing,' he added hastily. 'But still,' … he sighed, 'it was nice to be wanted.'

Wesley chose to ignore him. Once Connor was safely out of the way, he looked round at the rest of the team. 'Watch the monitor, when I go down. Pay attention to everything he says, everything he does. He'll try to confuse you, to play on your emotions, to get you to drop your guard. If he succeeds, even for a moment, we're all dead.' He began to pace, 'I spent my life training for this, and I'm still not ready.' The books, the hours in the council library, the hours locked under the staircase … none of it really prepared you for meeting a monster of legend; a monster wearing your best friend's face. 'He's smarter than I am,' he said, almost to himself, 'and a great deal more focused. He'll exploit everything Angel knows about me and go for the jugular. Whatever he's got - I'm not gonna see it coming.'

* * *

Angelus lay on his back, on the hard bench, a smile on his face. '_If you go down to the woods today you're sure of a big surprise. If you go down in the woods today you better go in disguise.' _He heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs and his smile grew even broader. 'Wesley!'

'Angelus.'

The vampire sat up and turned to look at the watcher. Wesley was holding a gun and - in the gloom of the basement - was struggling to see Angelus, hidden in the shadows. Angelus, of course, had a clear view of Wesley. Nocturnal predator. Good night time vision. 'Why the long face?' he said, 'aren't you happy to see me?'

'Should I be?'

'Well, if it wasn't for you and your shaman friend, I wouldn't be here. I'm feeling the love.'

Wesley walked closer to the cage - though he still kept out of reach of Angelus, and he kept his gun pointed squarely at the vampire. 'The choice was Angel's.'

'Angel schmangel, you're the man with the brain.'

'I've imagined this moment many times,' Wesley told him. 'Years of study, research. I've read every word ever written about you.'

'Stop. I'm blushing.'

'To be one on one with the legendary Angelus,' he went to sit in a folding chair, a few feet away from the cage. 'As a former watcher, it's a high point.'

Angelus stood at the edge of his cage, his hands wrapped around the bars, and leered through at Wesley. 'Buttering me up? Getting me all relaxed hmm?' He let out a small chuckle. 'It's not the most innovative interrogation technique but…' he shrugged, 'OK, I'll play.'

'Is it a game?' Wesley kept his voice calm and even. Trying to give nothing away.

'Hey, open book, anything you want to know,' Angelus offered. 'How sweet that virgin gypsy tasted. The special smell of a newborn's neck. My first nun -' he leaned back and grinned, 'now that's a great story.'

'We could start there.' He was still trying to get Angelus to do all the work. To get Angelus to be the one who revealed his hand. He was trying desperately not to rush or hurry the vampire, not to let him see how much Wes wanted the information on The Beast. But Angelus was smarter than that - and he only laughed, again, shaking his head. 'Don't be coy, Wes. You're just _dying_ to know about the Big Beastie. Fire away.'

'OK - did you know The Beast?'

But Angel was not impressed by that question. He began to pace his cage, slowly - like a prowling jungle cat. He expected better, more insightful questions, from someone as learned as Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.

Wes tried again. 'If you knew the Beast, why wouldn't Angel remember?'

Now - that was more like it. A much better line of questioning. But - it was a question to which Angelus did not know the answer. The whole point was that Angel was supposed to remember every nasty little thing that they had done; that he had to live with the knowledge that all Angelus had done, he had done also. But then there was this blank space where The Beast should be. Angelus shrugged. 'Maybe he doesn't let himself remember the good times.' He rolled his eyes at the thought of his dogooder alter ego. 'So like him.' He looked back at Wesley. 'Here's one for you. What's the deal with Angel and the Raiders of the Lost Ark?'

Wesley looked confused, 'the movie?'

'The ''perfect day'' fantasy he came up with. Caves, booby traps, the requisite phallic sword.'

Wesley leaned forward. This wasn't exactly what he needed to know - but it was interesting. And if there was anything in Angel's subconscious that knew what Angelus knew … it may even be useful. 'Angel fought The Beast in his fantasy?'

'Real candy ass,' Angelus told him.

'The Beast?'

'Angel. Not enough to be the hero - couldn't be happy unless he had the whole gang pitching in. Now that was the interesting part. Way better than the Hebrew letters and the flying stakes. How much it takes for Angel to be happy.' He began to laugh again - a low, dark chuckle - and moved deeper into the shadows. 'Time was, all our most noble of champions needed to free his soul was a quick tumble in the hay with a teenage girl. Simple fella. Always was. But now …' he whistled. 'Not that hay tumbling didn't come into it … different girl, though - not as steadfast as he likes to pretend - but the build up? The speechifying, the adventure and then here's the dark part. To be truly happy, Angel needed something from you Wes - can you guess what it was?'

'Won't you tell me?'

'Alright - alright,' he laughed again, 'if you don't wanna make a game of it. It was an apology. For Angel to be truly happy he needs you to look him in the eyes and tell him you're sorry.'

Wesley sat back in his chair, his heart felt heavy.

'Though - that would probably be easier to give than what he wants from that ludicrous halfbreed he keeps around.'

'Angel needed something from Doyle?'

'Yeah - see, the big man took from Doyle - stole something precious and… well, girl stealing isn't really part of the hero image, is it? In order for Angel to be really, truly happy - he needs Doyle to tell him that's it OK that he's now putting it to Doyle's girl. That the halfbreed is OK with Cordy warming Angel's bed.'

'Well … that's understandable. Guilt can be…'

'Yeah - you'd know all about the guilt of trying to take your best friend's girl, wouldn't you, Wes? But that's not the best part. The most twisted kink in our champion's soul. He doesn't just want Doyle to tell him it's OK he gets Cordy, he wants Doyle to tell him it's OK because Angel's_ the better man_. That he won fair and square because Angel _deserves_ Cordelia and Doyle_ doesn't_. Now … is that really the kind of thoughts a champion should be having about his loyal sidekick and best friend? Is that what you see in your fantasies, Wes - only with a slight change of cast?'

* * *

The team listened to the conversation, up on the monitor. Doyle sat on the desk, his feet balanced on a chair. His hands were linked together, resting on his knees, and his head was hanging low - he was staring at his nails, trying to blot out what Angelus was saying.

He was aware of Cordy sitting close by. He could tell she was tense - her body was stiff and still. But he didn't dare look at her, didn't dare see the expression on her face - see if she agreed with Angel; that Doyle had never deserved her and that she was now with the better man.

At his other side, he could also tell Gunn was getting pissed off. His arms were folded across his chest - he was fidgeting, shuffling from foot to foot. Doyle was pretty sure that, if he looked up, he would see the anger he felt, inside, reflected on Gunn's face.

Angelus knew they were listening. He knew exactly what to say to hurt each and every one of them - and to embarrass them in front of the rest of the team. Angel's fantasies about Doyle admitting his inferiority; the jibes about Wes and Gunn - and Fred. He was a master craftsman of painful half truths.

Lorne looked between the two men - saw their anger and their shame, and then looked at the two women and saw their guilt and embarrassment. 'Aw come on,' he said to them all, trying to keep his voice soft and upbeat, 'we all know he's the dark prince of lies. He's setting out deliberately to hurt you. We can't believe a word he says.'

'Then why are we botherin' to ask him about The Beast?' Doyle asked. But Lorne didn't have an answer to that.

* * *

'So, he killed The Beast in this fantasy?' Wesley asked, trying to get back on track.

'Had to,' Angelus replied, 'to get what he wanted. We all want something, Wes. It's the way of the world. Everybody's got an agenda.'

Wesley leaned back again, in his chair - waiting to see where this was going. Angelus smiled at him, 'you want to come down here, get all the vital stats on lava boy, play the big hero.'

'I want to kill The Beast,' Wesley corrected him, 'being a hero has nothing to do with it.'

But Angelus was unconvinced. What else could it be? The real question was 'why now?' It couldn't be the coming apocalypse. Nah - there was always one of them around the corner.

'So enlighten me,' Wesley said.

Angel walked back up to the bars and wrapped his hands around them, once more. ''Foul rag and bone shop of the heart' - that's where you live.'

'Meaning?'

'You want to impress the girl,' Angelus said. 'Move in, get her to love you and then, after a couple of days of flowers and candies…' he banged his hands against the bars, the clanging sound reverberated and echoed around the basement, 'you'll bend her over the kitchen counter.'

Wesley raised an eyebrow, 'that supposed to rattle me?'

'Kinda bony for my taste, but different strokes…'

'The Beast called you an adversary,' - one more attempt to get back on track, to take control of the conversation. But it was futile. Angelus was running his forehead along the cage, leering through. He moved his hands up and down on the bars, as if fondling them. His voice, when he spoke, was slow and deliberate 'Bet he loves to rub that shiny, bald head across her soft, milky skin. Mmmm….good…'

Wesley turned and looked up into the camera, which hooked up to the monitor, wishing he hadn't asked the others to be his unseen audience.

* * *

Up in the lobby, the rest of the team were still gathered around the monitor - the atmosphere was tenser than ever. The silence and humiliation almost tangible between them. 'Look…' Doyle said awkwardly, 'maybe we shouldn't all watch this, together… maybe we… maybe we oughtta take turns.'

'We need to see - we all need to see,' Cordelia said - though she did not look happy about it, 'if we take it in turns, it's more likely we'll miss something important.'

'But the stuff he's sayin'... no one wants to hear this stuff.' He remembered the last time Angelus - or a simulacrum of him - had been released. Of the things the vampire had yelled at Wes and him in front of Cordy. Of the things he'd said to Cordy, once the men were unconscious. The secrets, the fears, the truths nobody wanted speaking aloud. It had been bad when it had just been the three of them - and sheer terror had been having it's deafening effect. But now, this cold calculation; sitting and listening at a distance, whilst Angelus had the luxury of time to spill out every harmful secret he knew - it was excruciating.

...

'C'mon, Wes,' Angelus said on the monitor, 'it's not like your school girl crush is a secret.'

...

Fred glanced nervously up at Gunn, who was stood glowering down at the monitor, his arms folded across his chest, defensively. 'Charles, remember we can't believe anything Angelus says,' she said to him.

'How about stuff that's true?' He asked. Her took his eyes away from the screen to turn his glower on her, 'can we believe that?'

'He can distort everything,' Cordelia told them both, 'he can lie - even with the truth. It's what makes him so dangerous. That and - you know - the evil.'

Lorne nodded. 'Don't let him get to you, Kiwi.'

'He's not the only one that's gettin',' Gunn said, looking back at the monitor.

'Charles!'

'I know. I know.'

'It's just words,' she said - though her voice trembled, as she spoke.

* * *

'You've found a vulnerability,' Wesley said, fighting to maintain his composure, 'exploited it. Well done. Can we move on now?'

'I'm just getting started. Let me tell you this, though,' he let go of the bars, 'all that digging you've been doing on the horny giant? Looking in all the wrong places.'

'And where are the right places?'

But Angelus only smirked. Sure, he could tell him - but that wouldn't be sporting. And Angelus was having so much fun making the watcher dance to his tune. 'You've got no leverage,' he told Wesley, 'that's the trouble. What are you going to do? Kill me?'

Wesley got to his feet and stared the vampire down, 'if that's what it takes.' But that just made Angelus laugh out loud. 'Wait 'til they drop, Wes - and then try that line again.'

Wesley ignored the crude insults. That wasn't what could get under his skin. If Angelus had shot his bolt on the Fred stuff and was now stooping to cheap cracks, then this could be easier than Wes had dared to hope. Maybe Angel didn't have as much insight into him as he thought, if Angelus had nowhere to go after the Fred jibes. It was Wesley's turn to smile - a dark, mocking smile that mirrored Angelus' own. 'I'll put your soul back,' he threatened. 'You won't talk? No problem. We'll bring Angel back and be no worse off than we were.'

'Making you a failure, again.'

Wesley shrugged, 'you wanna waste my time, you can rot down here.' He turned his back on Angelus and walked towards the stairs.

'Nice stamina, Wes!' the vampire called after him, 'no wonder Fred isn't interested.'

Wesley stopped. Fred. Again. Was that really all Angelus had? All that time they had spent together … and the time since they had been apart, and his unrequited love was the only weakness Angel had ever picked up on. The great Angelus - what a disappointment. Wesley, himself, could torment better than this. He smiled to himself, once again. 'You must hate it - that Angel fights evil.'

Angelus didn't rise to the bait, 'eats you up inside, doesn't it?' He said, 'seeing all those idiots flocking around him, calling him a champion. Anyone ever call you a champion, Wes?'

Wesley turned back to look at him, 'I play my part.'

'Right - like keeping girls locked up in closets to help you look for me.'

Something flickered across Wesley's face - and Angelus leaned in further, 'yeah, I heard about that. Wasn't always Doyle doing the deep sea diving - and your previous pearl fisher was a bit less willing. Or,' he gripped the bars tighter, 'here's an oldie but a goodie: Faith. Good job being her watcher. She turned out to be a peach.'

Wesley walked back towards the cage, 'and you managed to get your soul back not once but twice - saving the world several times in the process. Nobody's perfect.' He snapped.

'And then there's kidnapping the fruit of my loins,' Angelus crooned softly, as if Wesley hadn't spoken. 'Smooth.' Wesley came to a halt. 'I - believed it was for the best at the time,' he stammered.

'For the best,' Angelus smiled and tapped his chest above his heart, showing how touched he was. 'I guess you just can't understand the bond between a father and son,' he said.

Wesley face was frozen, his expression pained and stricken. So here it was, Angelus did have more strings to his bow. Angel _had_ known more of what dwelt in Wesley's heart. Angelus smirked, 'oh, but you want to know, don't you, Wes? You came so close. Making my son your son. And when I took him back you grieved as if he'd died. You can barely stand to be in the same hotel as him, now, so close - and yet so far. And how do you think you'll feel - when I get free and snap his neck? You sacrificed so much to protect him, only to bring forth the one thing that could kill him.' He began to clap, slowly, 'way to go, Wes.'

'I believe Connor will be safe,' Wesley stuttered as he spoke. 'The prophecy…'

'Oh the prophecy, the prophecy,' Angelus sneered, 'you of all people, Wes, should know not to believe what's written.'

Wesley inhaled, sharply. 'In Doyle's vision you and The Beast were standing in a field,' he said - reverting back to the reason he was really there. It was like picking at an old wound, talking to Angelus; an itch that had to be scratched; wanting to hear everything that Angel thought - unable to leave it alone, no matter how painful, when there was somebody who was willing to be so candid. But nothing could be solved by pushing and pushing until he heard everything Angel thought of him. It was pure masochism, wanting to hear the worst. He had a job to do - to find out what Angelus knew.

But Angelus didn't want to stick to the subject matter. He was sadistic enough to enjoy giving away Angel's darkest thoughts. He wanted to push Wes into further acts of masochism. 'OK, let's talk about Doyle, shall we?' Angelus said, 'the other kidnapper. Brutus to your Judas - or maybe it's the other way around. Doyle, Doyle, Doyle. You know - it's interesting. You were happy to turn your back on your friends because you lost your little chickadee to the dumb lunk of muscle. And Doyle,' he laughed. 'Well, Doyle was out for petty point scoring against the man trying to take his girl away from him. So you both convince yourselves that the only way to protect Angel is to betray him. His two noble protectors - and not a one of you with your blood flowing in the direction of your brains. No wonder your decision making skills were so badly impaired. But for Doyle, though - I mean, can you blame him? Cordelia - am I right? Now there's a rack to write home about. I bet he just loved burying his spiky little face in between those two puppies. And - is it only his face that's spiky? I've asked that before … never got an answer. What do you reckon, Wes?'

Wesley glanced, uneasily, at the camera, again. But Angelus kept on talking. 'Is Cordy equipped to take more than a human man? I know I can't wait to find out … test those round, ripe thighs… You think she's up for a bit more demon loving? You think she needs a bit of a monster in her man to get her all hot? I could spend a week - at least - just getting to know every curve and crevice of her body.' He laughed, 'as long as she was gagged, though, am I right? Something else to look at - but shame about the personality. Yap yap yap yap yap.' He put on a falsetto. '_Oh god, Angel, I love you - but we have to take things slow. You're so dangerous and I'm so afraid of that…'_ he shook his heads, 'chicks,' he snorted, in disgust, 'as if even Angel was gonna put up with all that whiny boohooing forever, if the good stuff wasn't being supplied. I mean, no one's _that_ hot.'

* * *

'Sticks and stones, sweet potato,' Lorne said to Cordelia, in an undertone. She shook her head and turned away from the monitor.

'We don't have to listen,' Gunn offered - seeing how upset she was.

'I'm up for that,' Doyle said, 'the not listenin' part.'

Fred gave him a commiserating look. 'No one's taking him seriously,' she said to him. 'It's just little bitty bits of truth twisted up into lies. He's out to hurt us. We all know none of this is real.' She looked over at where Cordy was still standing with her back to them, 'and he's gone for all of us,' she said. 'We're all in the same boat. And we all know that what he says has no real meaning or truth behind it.'

Cordelia shook her head. She kept her back turned so they couldn't see her face, couldn't see the tears in her eyes. 'I just - I can't listen anymore.'

'Who does a guy need to kill to get a drink around here?' Angelus called out from on the monitor. Cordelia breathed in, deeply - and, when she exhaled, it came out as ragged gasp.

'We can switch the monitor off,' Gunn offered. But she shook her head, again. 'Someone needs to listen - someone needs to be a second pair of ears in case Wes misses something - or in case he gets into trouble down there. But … I can't. I've heard enough - I need to…' she began to walk towards the door.

'Cordy - where are you…?' Fred called after her. But Cordelia didn't answer, and she didn't turn around. The front door slammed behind her. The team all glanced at each other. 'I'll go after her,' Doyle offered - and hurried out of the door behind her. In truth, he was relieved to have an excuse to not have to sit around with the others and all listen in to Angelus speculating about his … about how far down the spikes went.

A moment later, Wesley came through the basement door and back into the lobby. 'He wants blood,' he announced.

* * *

'Cordy!' Doyle yelled, running after her, 'hey, Cordy, wait up!' She was half way down the block, but she came to a stop - and he jogged up beside her, a little out of breath. 'Where are you goin'?' He asked her. 'If you wanna go home - I'll get the Plymouth, drive y' … it's not safe right now.'

She shook her head. 'I'm not going home,' she told him, 'I just - needed to get out of there. Those things he was saying.'

'He just says it to make y' crazy. Lyin' with the truth - like y' said.'

'Oh you don't really believe that crap,' she snapped at him. He looked surprised - and her face softened to become more apologetic. 'Sorry - I didn't mean to yell. But all that 'twisting the truth to hurt you' stuff is just comfort talk for the rookies.' She sighed and pushed her hair out of her face, in frustration. 'Angelus _is_ Angel,' she told Doyle. 'He's inside of him, everyday. Waiting to come out. Watching. Listening. Experiencing everything Angel experiences. There isn't a thought in Angelus' head that Angel didn't put there. Everything he's said today - on some level - Angel believes it as well.'

'I don't believe that, Cordelia.'

'Believe it, buddy. That question - about the spikes? I remember him asking it last time around. That night with Raven and the happy pills. Bit weird he's repeating himself, huh? Except it's not. It means Angel has wondered about that every day for the past four years. And the moment he's lost his inhibitions, he's back to asking all the questions that have been bugging Angel, but he's too polite to ask.'

Doyle squirmed uncomfortably, 'maybe I should just tell him?' he said, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, 'if it's such a big deal for him.'

Cordelia smiled - for a moment she looked almost happy, and her eyes were warm as well as her smile. 'Maybe you should invent something really weird to tell him. Keep him on his toes.'

Doyle chuckled, 'yeah - yeah maybe I should do that. Look,' he tilted his head and looked at her - his eyes gentle, 'if you're not goin' home - are y' ready to come back to the hotel?' He glanced around the darkened street. 'Y' can't just stand out here.'

'I'm not going to,' she told him, 'you were right.'

'I was?'

She nodded, 'uhuh, it isn't safe out. Perpetual midnight? Soup's on and the vamps will be picking up a spoon. I'm going to go patrol - see if there aren't some hopeless types out there who need helping.'

'I'm really not comfortable with the idea of you going out into the darkened, vamp ridden city all by y'self, darlin',' he said to her. It was her turn to tilt her head and look at him, 'so come with me.'

* * *

Fred walked slowly down the stairs, Angelus' pint of blood in her hand. Gunn followed her - he had her covered with a crossbow. Angelus smiled when he saw them. 'Othello and Desdemona,' he greeted them, 'my favourite couple. Oh wait, Desdemona wasn't in love with the other guy.'

Gunn flinched - and tried to hide it. But Angelus still saw. His smile broadened. 'So much for stand by your man. But then again … you probably like her on her knees.' Gunn pointed the crossbow directly at the vampire's heart. 'Keep talkin',' he said, 'I'll sweep the cage out, when I'm done.'

That made Angelus laugh. 'Provocative,' he chuckled. 'Get me all riled up. You think that's what your boss would want?'

'Don't have a boss.'

'You might want to tell Wesley that.' He turned to look at Fred then and smiled down at her - his evil, twisted leer. 'Ah, Fred, you look so fresh and sweet. But I hear you in your room at night with Gunn. The things you say. And I'm lying there - listening - hands under the covers… I can't help myself … it's so ... gripping.'

Gunn looked unimpressed, 'this from the guy who can't get any - ever.' But Fred was embarrassed. She looked down, a dark blush staining her cheeks. 'You're a pig,' she stuttered.

Angelus enjoyed the effect he had had on her. 'Oh come now, don't blush Winifred. No need to be bashful. It's just… Angel has to find his guilty pleasure somewhere since Cordelia stopped squeaking the mattress with her halfbreed. That symphony of bed springs kept him going for months … he could smell the sweat, hear the gasps - and all the time he'd be wondering if our Cordy was really into all that…'

'Cordelia and Doyle went out,' Gunn interrupted. 'They had enough of your crap. They're not listening to you on the monitor - hell, for all I know, they're hittin' the mattress; composin' another symphony of bed springs, as we speak. They got tired of you trying your hardest to hurt them - trying to spill every dirty little secret you know. They don't care about you - so they walked. So save it for someone who can actually be bothered to listen to your whiny ass, evil monologuing.'

'Thanks for the tip off. I will.'

Gunn levelled his crossbow, 'stand back,' he commanded, as Fred stepped forward to hand over the pig's blood. She had it placed on a small cart, which she wheeled right up to the bars, so Angel could reach the glass - but not her. She wasn't looking at him. She was too sickened by what he had been saying, too humiliated, to look into his face. But he refused to take the glass whilst she was looking away. He stood still until she was forced to look up, to see what he was doing.

As soon as she met his gaze, he kicked the cart over - causing Fred to fall forward onto it - and into his reach. He grabbed hold of her and pulled her back towards him; his arm wrapped around her neck - and only the bars between them. He looked Gunn in the eye. 'Might get some, now,' he said.


	42. Soulless: Part Two

_Part Two_

Angelus had Fred gripped around the throat, she was pressed up against the bars - and Gunn stared on, helplessly; unable to use his crossbow, as Fred was blocking his shot. She was struggling in the vampire's arms, but completely unable to get free. Angelus was grinning. 'I like the way you move, Fred,' he whispered into her ear - but loud enough that Gunn could still hear. 'Do it just a little to the left.'

Fred gazed at her boyfriend with terrified eyes, 'Charles,' she whimpered. Her voice was faint, as Angelus' grip was choking off her breath.

Gunn dropped his crossbow and charged towards the pair of them, hoping to be able to pull her free. 'Get off of her!' he yelled.

Angelus was grinning in twisted delight, yelling right back at him - taunting him. 'Come on, Charles, Save her! Come on, save her, Charles!'

He was cut off by something suddenly hitting his arm and digging into his flesh. He looked down - it was a tranquiliser dart. He let go of Fred and looked up - Wesley was stood on the stairway, tranq gun in hand. He fired again - and this dart hit Angelus in the chest. He collapsed.

Fred sank into Gunn's waiting arms, trembling with relief. 'Are you OK?' He asked her, 'did he hurt you?'

'No,' she shook her head - and then rested it against Gunn's broad chest. 'I'm sorry, that was so stupid. I - I should've…' they both glanced up, as Wesley walked past them to check on the now sleeping Angelus. 'It's not your fault,' the watcher told her. 'Angelus is unpredictable. He'll take any opening - no matter how small.' Satisfied that the vampire was out cold, but unharmed, he turned to Gunn, 'It's understandable, but you played right into his hands. Never drop your weapon.' He headed back up the stairs and Fred wrapped herself In Charles' arms, once more. 'So, you're OK?' Gunn checked with her.

She nodded, her cheek resting against his chest, 'Yeah, I'm just glad you're here.'

Up on the stairs, Wesley glanced over his shoulder and watched, as the young couple embraced.

* * *

The stack of newspapers, bundled for delivery, blared the headline 'crime wave shuts down city.' Cordelia grabbed at the bundle and swung it at the nearest vampire's head. The two of them found themselves surrounded by a group of vamps and, no matter how often or how hard they knocked them down, they kept on springing back up for more.

Doyle was pushed backwards, he hit a metal canister and - as the vampire closed in, ready for the kill - he twisted the wheel at the top and released the gasses trapped inside. The vampire screamed and fell back, disoriented, and Doyle took that moment to plunge his stake home.

But, whilst he was going one on one, Cordelia had been pinned down by two vamps. They held one arm each, holding her in place ready for a third to bite her. She watched as the vamp came towards her, waiting for her moment. 'Let me guess,' she said, twisting her head to look between her captors and the one bearing down on her, 'out of towners?'

'Tucson,' the vampire told her - as he leaned in to bite. She brought her knee up, hard, getting him in the crotch. He doubled over in pain - and Doyle snuck up behind him and staked him through the back. 'Welcome to L.A,' he said, as the vamp crumbled into dust. Then - he morphed into his demon face and launched himself at the vampire holding Cordelia's left arm.

With her left arm now free, Cordy twisted in the other vampire's grasp and clenched her hand into a fist, striking her captor on the chin. He stumbled back a couple of steps and she took the opportunity to snap her leg out and kick him in the chest. He stumbled back further, hitting the wall.

The momentum of Doyle jumping on his vampire had caused them both to hit the ground and roll over. There was a moment where they scuffled, wildly, each trying to be the one that ended up on top. But then Doyle raised his face full of spikes and headbutted the vampire, as hard as he could. The vampire screamed out in agony, clutching at his face - and Doyle took that moment to roll them again so he was now above the downed vamp. As the vampire finally let go of his face, Doyle swung his fist into his nose - and the vampire howled again. Then Doyle raised his stake.

Cordy's vamp was wrong footed and she had him cornered. He swung a punch at her, which she ducked and then, before he could come in with his other arm - she plunged her stake through his heart. Down on the ground - at the exact same moment - Doyle rammed his own stake home, through the vampire's chest. The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust and Doyle fell the few inches on to the cold floor, coughing, as he breathed in the vamp remains. He morphed back into his human face and turned to look up at Cordelia. She held her hand out, to help him up - and he took it. 'Synchronised staking,' she said to him, a wry smile on her face, 'we could put it to music and turn it into a show.'

'Yeah,' he said, back on his feet, once more - but still spluttering on the vampire dust, 'or we could have just invented a new Olympic category.'

'We'd have to be on different teams in the Olympics,' she pointed out.

'Oh… yeah. You're foreign.'

'_I'm_ foreign? Excuse me! I am an _American!_'

Doyle chuckled softly, and then looked awkward, 'well - I guess we're both used to bein' on different teams, now,' he said.

Her little smile quirked downward, 'I dunno … I quite liked fighting with you, just then…' Her eyes darted downward - and she suddenly realised that they were still holding hands. She dropped her hand, quickly, and turned and walked off down the road. Doyle stared after for a moment - and then hurried to catch her up.

* * *

Fred went looking for Wesley. He was doing research in the office - sat at the desk, poring over the books. 'Hey,' she said - smiling, when she saw him at what she still thought of as _his_ desk.

'Hey,' he got to his feet. 'Angelus mentioned something about a sword in Angel's fantasy,' he told her - trying to explain his research, 'I thought maybe…'

'I wanted to thank you,' Fred said to him, 'If you hadn't come in when you did…' she glanced over her shoulder, into the lobby, looking guilty. Wesley came round the desk - and also looked out into the lobby. 'He's not there,' he said.

Fred looked relieved. But when she spoke, her voice was still awkward. She wanted to explain the situation but … the feelings; the emotions; these were all things best left unsaid - and it was difficult to talk about them. 'It's … Charles heard,' she said, 'what Angelus said. The stuff about…'

'Me,' Wesley finished for her.

She nodded, 'yeah and -'

'How I feel about you,' he interrupted again. His voice certain.

She smiled, nervously, 'yes, which is very sweet. There's nothing wrong with…'

'Yes there is,' he took a few steps towards her - so they were only an inch apart. She didn't move - and he pulled her into a kiss, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. There was a moment - and then Fred wrapped her own arms around Wesley's neck and began to kiss him back. The kiss deepened, intensified … and then she remembered - and slid her hands down to his chest, gently pushing him away. They stared at each other, their breathing hard - their hearts pounding.

'Hey,' Gunn appeared in the doorway - and Wes and Fred immediately stepped away from each other - creating space. Fred turned to her boyfriend. 'Who's watching the monitor?' Gunn asked - and then he noticed the flush on Fred's cheeks and the rapid rising and falling of their chests. His expression darkened. 'What's going on? ' he demanded.

'Nothing,' Fred replied, quickly. Too quickly.

'Did he just ..'

'Of course not!' she forced a laugh and try to push him out of the room. 'You're right, Charles - the monitor.'

'You better tell me what the hell I just walked in on,' he said, refusing to leave the room. Fred looked helpless. 'We were just … ' she turned back to gaze at Wesley - not knowing what to say. Not wanting to lie. Unable to tell the truth.

'What?' Gunn said, 'researching?'

Wesley pulled himself up to his full height and stared at the angry man. 'You want to do this, deal with me,' he said, 'leave Fred out of this.'

Gunn walked towards him, 'you ought to be leaving Fred ought of this! You think I don't see the way you look at her?'

'Charles, please!'

Gunn turned back to her, his expression accusatory, 'and you,' he fired at her, 'running off to him, every time you need help. Like I'm not good enough.'

'No that's not … this isn't the time.'

He turned back to Wesley, 'I'm telling you, stay away from her!'

* * *

Down in the basement, awake again, Angelus lay on his cramped cot and listened to the fighting, above. 'That was fast,' he smiled to himself.

* * *

'You remember the old days - when we used to joke about him becomin' Angelus again?' Doyle asked, as he and Cordy pushed the gate to the courtyard open, 'how we made a thing about his leather pants?'

'Yeah … the reality is not so much fun, is it?' she said.

'Everythin' was simpler then,' he closed the gate behind him and turned to look at Cordy - he could just about make her out, in the dark. 'I had my vision, Angel fought the evil, you sent the client the bill, we went for drinks. It all just … it's all gone wrong.'

'Sometimes, I guess, things just fall apart,' Cordelia told him.

'Yeah - I got quite a lot o' experience of that. And it's usually all my fault.'

She smiled at him, and put a hand on his shoulder, 'not everything is your fault, Doyle. You haven't managed to ruin everything, single handedly. You don't have that kind of power, little Irish man.'

He shook his head, 'I ruined all the stuff that mattered, though,' he said, 'the stuff that mattered to me - I mean.'

Her hand dropped from his shoulder and she turned away, headed for the door. 'I guess … I guess everything is different now. But when all this is over - I have no idea where we'll all be.'

'Well - if we're not all dead - then I guess, whatever happens, we can still chalk it up as a victory.'

'Yeah.' She stopped, just as they reached the door - she was lit from the lights inside the lobby, now - and Doyle could see that her eyes and her face were soft, as she looked at him. 'I really enjoyed killing things with you, this evening,' she said to him, 'we should … we could … do it again some time?'

He looked surprised, but then nodded, 'count on it,' and they opened the door and went inside.

...

Inside the lobby, they could hear the sound of raised voices coming from the office. They glanced at each other, uneasily.

'... long time since you were out for anybody but yourself,' they heard Gunn yelling. It was Wesley's raised voice that answered him. 'I owe you nothing. Not anymore.'

'You just take what you want, huh?'

Gunn suddenly came into view, as Fred managed, finally, to push him out of the office. They backed up into the lobby - and Cordelia and Doyle now exchanged a glance that had upgraded from uneasy to alarmed. 'What's…' Cordy started to say, but Gunn was still yelling back at Wesley. 'No matter who it belongs to!'

Wesley appeared in the doorway, then - following them out - his face as angry as Gunn's. 'I didn't realise Fred came with a deed!'

'Stop it!' Fred shouted - trying to stand between the two of them, keep them apart, 'what's wrong with you?'

'You don't realise a lot of things,' Gunn shouted, ignoring Fred, 'like the fact that nobody wants you here.'

Guys, come on,' Doyle tried to interrupt, 'maybe we should all calm…' but the other two men weren't listening. 'Because you do such a bang up job without me,' Wesley snapped back.

Lorne appeared in the lobby, from a side room, then - and, like Doyle had done, tried to calm the situation down. 'Hey, hey, come on guys. Let's not say anything that…'

'Shut up Lorne,' Gunn yelled - and then turned back to Wesley. His face was now twisted with anger. 'Great idea, Wes, stealing Angel's kid. Would have lost him to Wolfram and Hart if Angel hadn't shown up when he did.'

'And yet it was me who found Angel, when you failed,' Wesley replied, 'he'd still be under the water if it was down to you. You just aren't good enough, Charles. You couldn't save Angel and you couldn't help Fred when she needed you. That's why I have to keep coming back. To save Fred from your inadequacy.'

'Hey - Wes, man…' Doyle tried to say. He started to edge towards them, reluctant as he was to get in between two men much larger than himself, he wanted to try and prevent them from coming to blows. But he wasn't quick enough. Charles had stepped right up into Wesley's face, 'you wanna say that again?' he yelled.

Wesley took another step, closing the gap between them, even more. His voice was soft and low when he spoke - demonstrating his control, where Gunn had lost all of his. 'Face it, Gunn, you can't give her what she needs.'

Gunn hauled back and thumped Wesley. 'Charles!' Fred screamed. Wes stumbled back a pace, but he stayed on his feet - and then balled his own hand into a fist and punched Gunn twice, in the gut.

'Stop it!' Fred was yelling. Doyle was trying to find an in - to get between the men, without getting his nose flattened, but it was impossible. Gunn grabbed Wesley and threw him against the counter. They thumped each other a few more times.

'This is insane!' Fred cried, trying to pry Gunn away from Wesley, 'you're doing exactly what Angelus wants.'

'Oh for the love of Mike Tyson,' Lorne breathed - watching as the two men thumped each other some more. Cordelia had stepped forward and pulled Doyle away, by now. She could see it was hopeless, he couldn't stop them, alone - and he might not have sense enough to get himself to safety.

Fred was still trying to get Gunn to stop, though. Gunn was ignoring her, beating on Wesley. He hauled his arm back, ready for another blow - and then felt his elbow connect with something, behind him. He heard Fred's voice cry out in pain - and the sound of someone tumbling to the ground. He turned and stared down. Fred was on the floor, her hand brought up to her face - covering her rapidly bruising lip. He realised what he had done. 'Fred,' he said, looking down at her.

Cordelia pushed past him and was down at Fred's side in an instant. Lorne was there, too - and they helped her back up - supporting her. Gunn just stared at the damage he had accidentally caused. Doyle was staring at the monitor - at Angelus, lying alone in the basement, as the entire team fell apart, upstairs. It was clear to see - even on the small screen - that Angelus was smiling.

* * *

Upstairs Kali and the Groosalug glanced at each other, as they heard the sounds of the fight going on below. They had got Connor to go down for his nap and now the two of them were sitting on Angel's sofa. Kali had made them hot cocoa - which the Groosalug seemed to enjoy - and she was sitting close to him, her hand resting gently on his knee. 'Do you hear that?' she asked him.

He nodded, 'the Groosalug has trained for many years to hone his hearing as befits a warrior. I can hear the cry of a wamblattling bird from over three leagues away.'

'That's … very impressive.' She squeezed his knee and smiled up at him. He looked down, in surprise, as he felt the pressure on his leg, and then looked into her gently smiling face. He smiled back. 'It is an honour to train as a warrior, that I might be of use in defending one such as yourself, noble lady.'

'That's good to know … what do you think is going on down there?'

The Groosalug looked troubled, 'I fear his Noble Majesty and his friends have unleashed a dangerous and fearsome animal when they took the soul from their vantal. He will be making mischief amongst them - and they are not strong enough to stand against his words.'

Kali nodded, 'you're so wise,' she told him. She moved her hand from his leg and instead began to walk her index and middle fingers up his arm, tickling his skin. 'To think of that,' she murmured, 'it takes great understanding.'

'Your ladyship is too kind,' he said to her, looking down at where her fingers traced his skin. Then he looked into her eyes, 'The Groosalug has been trained to fight - not to think.'

'But you do both so well,' she whispered, leaning close. Then she pulled back. 'I should go check on them.'

'Do you wish me to come with you? It may not be safe.'

'No…' she looked across at where Connor was sleeping, 'you need to stay here and protect him.' She got to her feet and headed to the door.

'But lady - what if you are attacked?' he followed her. She turned back, and reached up to caress his face, looking deep into his eyes. 'Then you have the warrior hearing to hear my cries and come and protect me.' She smiled, warmly, 'I know you will - but in the meantime…' she looked back at Connor, 'you're the only one strong enough to protect him.' She gave one last glance to the Groosalug - warm and admiring - and then she slipped from the room and headed downstairs. The Groosalug stared off into space, in the direction she had just gone - he, too, was smiling.

* * *

Doyle reached the bottom step of the basement stairs. He heard Angelus get to his feet and then he saw him, lurching out of the gloom and pressing himself against the bars. 'I wondered if you would come and see me,' the vampire smiled at him.

'Ah - the great Angelus- stuff o' legends,' Doyle shrugged, 'how could I stay away?'

'So, what can I do for you, Francis?' He sniggered, 'you can't possibly be here to fight me. You know you don't stand a chance against me.'

'Yeah - I know,' Doyle sat himself down in the folding chair and stared at the caged vampire, 'I'm not deludin' myself that I got vampire strength.'

'That's not what I meant.'

'Huh?' he tipped his head to one side and then took out his pack of playing cards, shuffling them in his hand.

'Oh come on - you know why you're here, same as I do. Sweet Cordelia.'

'Oh, I see,' he separated the pack in two and then flicked them back together in a cascade. It was very satisfying to watch - and he waited until he was finished before he looked back up at the vampire. 'So - when you say I can't take you, can't fight you… you don't me 'cause you're a giant, dumb lunk, outsized 600lb gorilla - and I'm a regular person - you mean I can't compete when it comes to Cordy. Why? 'Cause you're so very handsome?' He chuckled. 'Looks aint everythin', bud - and the evil guy trapped in a cage oughtta know that.'

'And if you're so confident - why are you here?'

'Because you pissed me off. And I wanna gloat that you're locked up in there, whilst I'm out here. With Cordelia.'

'Ouch,' Angelus clasped his hand to his heart, like he had been wounded. And then he laughed. 'Oh no - wait. Laughing boy is the one that loves the fair Cordelia. I just wanna rip her throat out … after I've had me a real good time, that is.'

Doyle held himself still - refusing to let himself flinch. He forced himself to calmly cascade the cards again - and then look Angelus dead in the eye.

'Kind of makes your gloating a bit pointless,' Angelus said to him - walking slowly up and down the length of the cage, but keeping his eyes on Doyle the whole time. 'Your point scoring is in a category only Angel cares about.'

Doyle shrugged. 'Angel will remember this conversation.'

'Ah - that's it - isn't it?' He had his arms folded across his chest but he extended the right one, from the elbow, to point at the half demon. He wagged his finger and laughed. 'I get it. It's not_ me_ that's pissed you off. It's_ him_. What was it? That fantasy of his? The fantasy where you tell him how much better a man than you he is?'

Doyle got back to his feet and pocketed his cards. 'If Angel were better than me,' he said, 'even a little bit - you wouldn't be locked in that cage, right now. I just want him to know that.' He took a few steps towards the cage, though he stayed out of reach of the vampire, and stared him dead in the eyes. 'I am good enough for Cordelia,' he said, 'the reason I'm not with her has nothin' to do with _me_. It's because _she_ doesn't wanna be with me,' he shrugged, 'I might not like it, but it's her choice to make. I understand that.' He tilted his head again, 'but I'm not sure he does. I'm not sure he gets that she is allowed to make her own choices - he just sees her as a shiny prize to be won. I know I'm good enough to be with Cordelia - I wonder if he really believes that about himself?'

'And why am I supposed to care, again?'

Doyle took another step closer. 'You're not. I just want him to know that I will _never_ tell him he's a better man than me.'

Angelus began to chuckle, 'well, check out the pair on the halfbreed,' he said. Then he looked concerned, 'but … are they spiky?'

* * *

When Kali reached the lobby, she found Cordelia alone there. She could see Fred out in the garden - her head in her hands. And Doyle was visible on the monitor, down with Angelus, in the basement. 'Where is everybody?' she asked. Cordelia looked up, 'oh - there was a fight. Wes stormed out - to get some air. Lorne took Gunn off in the opposite direction, trying to calm him down.' She took a deep breath and shook her head, 'everything's falling apart.'

'We thought we heard fighting,' Kali said to her, sitting down beside her, 'that's why I came … you wanna tell me what happened?'

Cordelia smiled, weakly - a bit watery. 'Angelus,' she said, 'Angelus happened.' She nodded over at the monitor, 'he's down there - chatting away, every dark secret- everything best not said out loud. And we're all up here, listening in together. Listening to all the ugly things he has to say about each of us, in front of an audience of our nearest and dearest. Emotions are running high. Turned into a bout of fisticuffs and Fred got hurt in the crossfire.'

Kali bit her lip and looked down at her hands folded in her lap, 'I'm sorry,' she said, 'but … if he isn't telling you what you need to know. Why not change him back?'

'Because he still has the information - and we need it.'

'But he isn't talking?'

Cordelia shook her head. Kali took a deep breath. 'Maybe..' she said, a little hesitant, 'maybe it's because the wrong person is doing the asking?' she suggested.

'What do you mean?'

The demon woman shrugged, 'I dunno, it's just - you've known Angel the longest, right? And you're the one in the … intimate relationship with him. Why would you think Wesley or … ' she nodded at the monitor, 'Doyle is gonna be the one to get anything out of him?'

'You think it should be me? You think I can get him to talk?'

'I think you know him best. Whatever bargaining power it takes, I think you're the most likely to have it. Angelus isn't going to want to give up that information for free. As soon as he does that, you jam his soul back into him and he's locked down tight, again - maybe forever. If he's going to talk, he's going to want something in return. And I think … maybe … you're the best placed to figure out what that is.'

Cordelia looked thoughtful - and then troubled - and then thoughtful again. She nodded slowly, 'thanks Kali, that … that actually makes sense.'

'No problem.'

'You think I should speak to him now?'

'There's no time like the present.'

Cordelia nodded - got to her feet and headed for the basement door, leaving Kali all alone in the lobby.

* * *

Doyle and Angelus were still stood facing each other - eyes locked. Though Doyle was still a few feet away, out of the reach of the vampire. That was how Cordelia found them. 'Doyle,' she said, when she got to the bottom step. He turned to look at her. 'Go upstairs.'

He glanced back at Angelus and then at her, again. 'I'm not leavin' y' alone down here with him, Princess. It's not happenin'.'

'_You_ were alone with him,' she pointed out.

'That's different,' he said.

'Who's the chauvinist, now?' Angelus whispered, slyly. Doyle looked at him - annoyed, but only for a moment. He took a step towards Cordelia. 'Cordy, love, he's dangerous…'

'I won't get too close. He can't get out.'

'But…'

'Doyle. Do you trust me?'

'What?'

'Do you trust me? Do you trust that I'm not some weak, dumb, stupid little thing that will get myself captured or be somehow tricked into letting him free?'

'O'course I do, but …'

'Then go upstairs. I need to talk to Angelus. Alone.'

He still didn't move - and she looked at him, impatiently. 'You can watch me on the monitor,' she said. After a moment longer, feeling Angelus' eyes boring into his back - waiting to hear what his decision would be - he nodded and, reluctant, headed back up the stairs.

As his footsteps receded, Cordelia reached up and switched the camera off. 'Cordy, Cordy, Cordy,' Angelus leered, watching her, 'couldn't stay away, could you?'

'We don't have long,' she said to him, 'as soon as Doyle realises I killed the feed, he'll be back down here with an entire arsenal of weaponry. You and I are gonna make a deal.'

'Tough,' Angelus laughed at her, 'did you practice that in the mirror a few times? Lemme guess - you wanna know about The Beast?'

'Everything you know,' she nodded.

'Oh. And in return, I get what? Wouldn't mind a new car. I hear the new Mustang is pretty good.'

'Something better,' she promised, moving towards him.

'What's a better ride than a Mustang?' he asked.

She stepped up - only just out of arm's reach of the cage and looked him dead in the face. 'Me,' she said.


	43. Soulless: Part Three

_Part Three_

Angelus gripped the bars tightly and leered through, 'you?' he asked. She nodded. This was what she was offering. If he quit stalling, quit game playing, told them what they needed to know - then he could have her, whatever he wanted to do. He laughed. 'Must be some confusion. You took out the soul. Still have the brain.'

'Is that a fact?' she quirked her eyebrow, 'Angelus - last of the great thinkers. OK brainiac - then use it. The Beast, the darkness - the whole world is falling apart and we are out of ideas. You're the end of the line. What choice do I have?'

He turned away from her, 'Wes was better at buttering me up.'

'You know what it means to be a champion,' she said - taking another step forward, her voice had a pleading edge to it.

'I'm trying _so_ hard to forget.'

'Sometimes, a sacrifice has to be made.' Her voice wobbled slightly. He span back around and grinned in delight. 'And you're the little lamb. Not that there aren't a few things I wouldn't mind doing to that body - besides the obvious.' He began to walk back towards her. She swallowed, nervously, but didn't back away. He sniffed, 'I can smell the fear on you,' he said to her.

'I'm not afraid,' she said. But he acted as if she hadn't spoken. 'It's intoxicating. Gets my blood lust up - and then drives it all … south.' He stared at her.

'Well, then, you wanna tell us all about The Beast.' He kept on staring at her, and she swallowed again, 'And then … then you can do whatever you want to me.'

He stepped away, breaking the spell. 'You're lying.'

She shook her head. 'Look in my eyes. Angel knows me. You know me. Better than anyone. So, when you look at me, you know I'm not lying.'

He looked her up and down - 'this isn't a trick?'

'Not a trick.'

'_Anything_ I want?'

'In return for information … anything you want.'

'Let me tell you what I want, Cordelia,' and he began to whisper to her; all the dark and dirty little things he wanted to do, all the ways he would touch her and use her, once he had her alone in the cage. All the different ways he would make her scream. Make her hurt. Make her beg for mercy, before he was done - and how he would keep on going, until she had no more screaming left in her. She stood stock still and listened - her eyes wide, as she fought to keep back the tears.

...

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs - and Angelus backed away. Doyle had come back down to the basement, a crossbow in his hand - a cross around his neck. He looked between the vampire and the frozen woman, 'what's goin' on?' he asked.

'You wanna tell him, Cordy?' Angelus asked, smirking in wicked delight.

She shook her head, turned away from the cage and smiled at Doyle, 'nothing's going on,' she tried to reassure him. He looked between the two of them again, 'uhuh - Cordy, did you switch the camera off?'

* * *

'I don't understand,' Fred was frowning. Cordelia and Doyle had gone back upstairs, leaving Angelus alone in the basement - and now the entire team were assembled in the office. Cordelia had just told them that she had got Angel to agree to talk. But, far from jumping with joy, they were now giving her the nth degree in trying to find out how she had changed his mind.

'Why is Sid Vicious suddenly Mr. Show and Tell?' Gunn asked.

'I guess honey buns, here, must have found a way to sweet talk him, isn't that right Cordy?' Lorne - different to the others - sounded like he wanted to gloss over the whole thing, just wanted to take her word for it that Angelus would talk, and not ask any questions. She wondered if he could read her aura. She wasn't singing but … after those moments alone in the basement, she wouldn't be surprised if her aura was screaming. And the psychic didn't want to know - knew the details were too painful to know.

'Yeah - I guess I found his… Achilles heel,' she said, 'Wes, whenever you're ready...'

Doyle leaned forward - he was sitting on the chair behind the desk - and his expression was grave. 'Cordelia, Princess,' he said to her, 'what did you promise him? Look - we gotta know what you did.'

'I did what I had to,' she kept her voice firm.

'Doyle's right,' Wesley said to her, 'We're all painfully aware of Angelus' ability to manipulate.'

'I'm not being manipulated,' she said quickly. Too quickly. She saw Doyle frown.

'It would be better if I knew,' Wesley said. But she shook her head. 'It's better if you don't.'

'Sweetheart,' Doyle tried again, 'whatever you've said to him … you know we don't want you to put yourself in any danger.' From the tone of his voice; worried, coaxing, warning; it sounded like he had guessed what he had walked in on. And that confused her - made her feel all muddled. 'Whatever he knows, it's not worth you gettin' hurt,' he said.

'I know what I'm doing, Doyle,' she snapped, 'and don't call me 'sweetheart'.'

He sat back in the chair, looking defeated - and nodded his head. The rest of the team glanced at each other, awkwardly. 'OK, Wes,' Doyle said, 'I guess you better go down there, then.'

* * *

Wesley sat back in the folding chair. Angelus stood inside his cage. 'All right,' Wesley said, 'shall we start from the beginning? What year was it?'

'1789.'

Wesley thought back to all he had read on Angelus, over the years, 'so you were in Prussia?' he checked. Angelus seemed impressed. Wes had been doing his homework! 'Hmmm - all those Prussian girls,' Angelus' leer took on a reminiscent air. 'Must be the pastries. All that sweetness gets into their blood.'

...

The team sat gathered round the monitor, listening in. Cordelia flinched, when she heard him talk about the women he had murdered … and if they were lucky that was all he had done to them. Doyle saw her shudder, and - slightly hesitant - he reached out and patted her hand, leaving his own resting on top of it. She glanced down - and then up at him. He gave her a small, shy smile and, after a moment, she smiled back. They turned back to watch the screen, their hands still linked, on the counter. 'I was taking a shortcut on the way to Vienna…' Angelus was saying, on the monitor.

...

'Started to feel like someone was watching me,' he told Wesley. 'There were troops around. I'd run into them now and then. Not as sweet as the girls, by the way. But, the little massacre I ran into - seriously lacking in military precision.' He smiled, as he remembered the gore. 'Bodies, bodies everywhere and not a drop to drink,' his voice became a singsong.

Wesley crossed his legs - still pointing his gun at the vampire, and waited patiently. 'So, I followed the trail,' Angelus told him, 'and there was your friend. The one you so cleverly call 'The Beast'.' He smiled again at the thought of that field - of all the dead bodies lying around; the dismembered limbs; the entrails decorating the trees like streamers; the staring, glassy eyes of the murder victims. It had been a masterpiece in destruction. He had ripped the arm of a dead girl, himself, hoping to find something to drink - and when he had turned around, there had been The Beast, watching him. 'We had a lot in common,' Angelus said, 'but then he already knew that. He'd staged the massacre to impress me.'

'So, he sought you out,' Wesley clarified, 'why?'

'Girl trouble. Thought I might be able to help him with a situation.'

'How?'

'You've heard of the Svea priestesses? Very powerful, big into banishing.'

...

Up in the lobby, watching the monitor, Lorne leaned in towards Fred, 'vanishing?' he whispered, sounding confused.

'_Banishing,_' she corrected.

...

'The Beast was next on their list,' Angelus explained. 'He couldn't touch them - some kind of mojo - but a vampire could.'

'So he wanted you to kill them?' Wesley asked.

'He had it all worked out. I'd scratch his priestesses - and he'd scratch my back somewhere down the line. A limited partnership.' He remembered standing on that field, surrounded by death, and The Beast offering a bargain. '_You need not be my enemy. Join with me, Angelus.' _ He snapped back into the present, inside the cage, the out of his depth watcher sitting just beyond. 'And?' Wesley asked him.

'I declined.' He brought his hand up to his jawline, as he remembered taking the hit from that massive, rock like paw. 'And he didn't ask twice. I could probably have been more diplomatic with my refusal, but I'm not big on teamwork.' The hit had nearly knocked him out cold. He had fallen to the ground, his mouth bleeding, unable to get back up. The Beast had loomed above him. 'I thought that was gonna be the end of me,' he told Wesley, 'but, like I said, girl trouble.'

Just as Angelus had been about to pass out, he had caught sight of the priestesses gathered round them; holding candles, chanting. 'So - they just started up the whammy, and there you have it,' he explained.

'The priestesses banished The Beast?' Wesley asked, 'how?'

'Don't know,' Angelus shrugged, 'I was too busy passing out.'

* * *

'I'm not sure they really know what they're doing, down there,' Kali said. She sat in the chair opposite the Groosalug and reached out, putting her hand on his knee, 'it worries me.'

'How so, Lady?'

'Well…' she twisted her mouth, as she thought about it. 'They're falling apart. They took Angel's soul away - made him Angelus - and now they can't stand up to him. They're fighting amongst themselves.'

'It is always sad when friends fall foul of one another,' the Groosalug nodded.

She bit her lip and cast her eyes low, 'it's more than that worrying me, though,' she said. 'They showed such - poor judgement, bringing Angelus back. Taking Angel's soul when they were not strong enough to stand against him. Even Doyle …' She shook her head. 'It makes me afraid. As they fall out and look for someone to blame for this mess, when they've proven they can't think straight, it makes me worried that they will turn on me. They know so little - except that this Beast and I are connected. And when they run dry of new leads - I'm worried they'll turn to me for answers I can't give - I'm worried they'll believe I'm lying. That they'll blame me for everything - that… that they'll hurt me.' She bit her lip again and blinked back tears, fluttering her eyelashes, as she did.

'I would never let them harm you, lady,' the Groosalug said - his voice was earnest and serious. She looked up at him, then, the tears gone from her eyes - and directed a smile; a bright, brilliant beam; right at him. 'I know you wouldn't,' she said, sweetly.

* * *

The team were crowded back inside the office, once more. The monitor showed Angelus prowling up and down in his cage - but no one was paying attention to him right now. They were too busy hitting the books. Noses buried deep inside various old tomes, they each scanned for any sign of the priestesses that Angelus had talked about. Cordelia was tracing her finger down the index page of her own book, 'slarf demons,' she read aloud, 'spell mantras, srail'gong technique, but nothing on Svea priestess ladies.'

'There's nothin' here either,' Doyle said, slamming his own book closed. He looked around at the team , 'look - are we really sure he's tellin' the truth? I mean - we could be barkin' way up the wrong tree, here, and he's laughin' away down there, leadin' us on a merry dance.'

'He's telling the truth,' Cordelia said to him, keeping her eyes on her book. He looked at her. 'How do you know that?'

'I know.'

He sighed, 'Cordelia, darlin' - what did you promise him? Please…'

'I told you,' she looked up at him, annoyed, 'it doesn't concern you. It doesn't matter.' He dropped his eyes back down. The rest of the team glanced at each other - the air was tense. Then, Fred broke the silence, 'here we go,' she said, 'The Svea priestesses - also known as the Svear. A mystical order, all descendants of a powerful Nordic priestess, Svea.'

'Anything about The Beast?' Doyle asked.

She gave a half shake of her head, 'nothing definitive. But this one looks like it could match up.' She handed the book to Wesley. Gunn snorted in disgust and walked away from them. Fred didn't even look up. Wesley scanned the text. 'Same region,' he nodded - his fingers tracing the words, 'approximately the same time period.'

'I'm shaky on Freyan runes,' Fred told the group, 'but it kinda seems like it's only a general I.D of who or what got banished.'

'Translation is something like - uh - big … hard thing,' Wesley read. Cordelia quirked an eyebrow. 'Sounds like our guy.'

Lorne was all enthusiasm, 'Fantastico!' he celebrated. 'So, where do we find these banishing babes and, uh, how fast can they get to L.A?'

'About 25 minutes, depending on traffic,' Gunn said, he showed them what he had been doing. He had the phone book - and he threw it down on the desk, in front of Wesley. 'They're in Pacoima.'

* * *

Wesley, Cordelia and Doyle arrived at the suburban house and walked up the driveway. There was an SUV parked out front and herbaceous borders planted in the yard. It all looked ridiculously mundane, the last place a powerful priestess might live - until they read the sign hanging by the door. '**Svear: Mon-Fri: 10 AM - 4PM'**

'It's good to work regular hours,' Doyle said - reading it.

'So I hear,' Cordy replied, drily.

He smiled at her, 'it's nice to know that some people in the world of the weird are gettin' time away from the occult, even if we haven't quite got the balance right, yet. Shows anythin's possible.'

'Yeah - if we can just convince the helpless types to knock off needing rescuing at 5.'

'And let the PTB know I don't take visions on weekends,' Doyle smiled. Cordelia laughed.

Wesley rang the doorbell. But there was no answer. 'Looks like no one's home,' Cordelia said. Doyle frowned. 'Is it late?' he asked, 'it's hard to tell with it being dark all the time - though maybe that makes these Norwegian types feel right at home. Isn't that a thing in Scandinavia? Maybe they just went to bed already?'

Wesley banged on the door. There was still no reply. He tried the handle, it twisted in his hand. 'It's open,' he said, pushing the door wide and stepping into the house. Cordelia and Doyle followed him. 'Hello?' Wesley called out, 'is there anybody home? Hello?'

'Hello?' Cordelia joined in, walking through into the next room, 'Nordic priestesses?'

Doyle had stopped in the hallway. He peered at a photograph of the family - and frowned. He felt - a twinge - he couldn't place it, but nevertheless there was a familiarity. Something wasn't right. He turned away from it. 'So, the mom's the priestess?' he asked.

'I think all the women are,' Cordelia replied. She stopped and sniffed - there was something on the air. A sweet smell, but not a pleasant one. 'What is that?' she asked. She reached the archway to next room and stopped dead - staring down. She could place the smell now, knew it all too well. The sweet smell of decay. Of rotting flesh. She stared down at the floor, where the entire family of the Svear priestesses lay: massacred.


	44. Soulless: Part Four

_Part Four._

They stood in the doorway to the kitchen and stared down at the slaughtered family. There was blood everywhere - and great, gaping wounds torn into their flesh. They had not died easy, and they did not look peaceful. The little boy - mustn't be much older than five - had a look of sheer surprise on his face; his bloodstained hand still gripped a bloodstained teddy. 'We're too late,' Wesley said, his voice heavy; defeated. 'Again.' With a deep sigh, he entered the kitchen and started to look around. Unable to protect them in life, he was now looking for a way to give them meaning in death; to find something that would help capture and stop whoever had done this.

'How does The Beast know exactly what we're gonna do?' Cordelia asked. She hadn't moved from the doorway. She just stared down in disbelief - there was even a slight trace of annoyance in her voice. 'It's like he's psychic.'

'Maybe he is,' Wesley replied.

'Or maybe he's keepin' tabs on us?' Doyle suggested, 'watchin' the hotel - makin' sure he stays one step ahead o' us.'

'You think maybe Angelus could have sent him a message?' Cordelia wondered, 'some kind of demon morse code - or an evil psychic link - or…'

'These people have been dead for a few days,' Wes interrupted her. He had knelt down and laid a gentle hand on the little boy, feeling the cool of his skin, noting it's pallor. Rigor Mortis had been and gone and decay was setting in. 'Angelus had nothing to do with this,' he concluded, leaning back on his heels and looking up at the others.

'Which means, by the time the shaman was getting all chanty on Angel, it was already too late,' Cordelia said. Doyle stared down - transfixed by the little boy and his bear. 'They've just been lying here - like this - for days? Nobody noticed? Nobody came callin'? The kids' schools didn't ring? A friend didn't drop by? Nobody?'

'With all the chaos going on outside, I doubt anyone even noticed they were gone,' Wesley told him. Doyle shook his head and walked off, back into the living room.

'We should have seen this coming,' Cordelia said to Wesley. She glanced over her shoulder to check on what Doyle was doing, but the Irishman was just stood in front of the fireplace, looking at something.

Wesley got back to his feet, 'Of course The Beast would go after the priestesses. Let's have a look around,' he suggested, 'then we should call the police.' He and Cordelia began to check around the kitchen - looking for any clues, any signs that would help them understand what had happened here - or when. It was Wesley that found a scrap of paper, pinned to the kitchen noticeboard. 'A banishment incantation,' he said, reading it, 'at least - I think it is.'

'So they were trying to get rid of The Beast,' Cordelia said. Wesley nodded, 'seems so.'

'They probably recognised his modus operandi,' Doyle said, from the next room. He still hadn't moved from the fireplace. 'Rain o' fire, lots o' dead people. Even if this family were killed before he managed to blot out the sun, they must have realised who was behind all this. Family legends… so they tried to do what they'd done before … and he killed 'em - all o' 'em. And anyone linked to 'em.' He shook his head, 'bastard,' he said, softly.

Cordelia came up beside him, 'what are you looking at?' she asked him. He pointed to the calendar on the mantelpiece. The day for the 23rd had 'daddy's birthday' written in it and it was circled by a red heart. 'They were just a family,' Doyle said, 'doin' normal family stuff - everythin' to look forward to…'

'You gonna help us look around? See if we can find anything that might help?'

He stared at her, 'what could possibly help them, now?' He turned and walked right out of the house. She stared after him and then glanced back at Wesley. 'Go after him,' the watcher said. 'Make sure he's OK.'

...

She followed him out of the house. He was sat near the end of the drive, on the steps that led down to the sidewalk from the garden path. 'You doing OK?' Cordelia asked him, sitting down beside him.

'No,' he replied shortly.

'It's hard - seeing humans,' she said softly. 'Demons, they're just … gore and body parts. Vampires, they dust like they were never anything at all. But when it's humans… I guess you can see all that potential just - taken away. Snuffed out. And you think about all the people that loved them; all the people they left behind; the dry cleaning they'll never pick up; the ice cream, in the freezer, that they'll never eat - and it just seems so… how can life stop, just like that?'

She shook her head, sadly. 'I've been doing this a long time... When I was 16 - I went to the Audio visual room to go collect the sound system for the school dance. My boyfriend - Kevin - had been supposed to take it to The Bronze the night before, but he flaked on me - at least, I thought he did.' She took a deep breath. 'Anyway, I went to get the stuff and I could see, through the window in the door, the guys were in there, watching cartoons. I opened the door - ready to yell at them - and Kevin fell out. He'd been propped up against the door, his throat ripped out. And when I opened the door he just fell on me. The rest of the guys were the same.' She screwed her face up, 'I remember the cartoon - loony tunes - two little pigs dancing round on the screen, and a bloody handprint smeared across the glass.' She shuddered. 'But I've never seen bodies that tiny before,' she said.

'I have.' His voice was heavy and he didn't look at her, as he spoke. She looked at him, though, and reached her hand across to hold his. He squeezed it, before he carried on talking. 'My first vision. Ever. I was asked to help some guys out, to hide them. The … The Scourge was lookin' for 'em. And I said no.' He inhaled sharply and then repeated himself, as if he didn't quite believe it. 'I said no. And they were all killed. All of them. I got the vision - I didn't know what it was, but I went down to see if it was just a dream or … it wasn't a dream. The entire family had been slaughtered. There was a little girl. Her sneakers were pink - they were just layin' in the middle o' the floor. I saw them before I saw her. I had to force myself to look for her - and there she was.' He glanced at Cordelia, then. 'She was a brachen demon,' he told her, 'like me. And she died - because of me - and I saw her body. And now there's another family that I'm too late to save.' He looked down, again, and muttered his next words, 'I'm always too late.'

'Doyle -' her voice was soft, but she wasn't sure what she was going to say. There wasn't anything that made this better. No words would bring back this family, no amount of 'I'm sorrys' - just like nothing would bring back Kevin, or Doyle's brachen family. Sometimes there was nothing to do but just - feel it - and accept that you couldn't make it better. She squeezed his hand in hers - and he looked back up at her. They stayed there for a moment, sat together, holding hands, looking into each other's eyes…

...It almost came as a relief to Cordy, when a vampire jumped out of the bushes and attacked them.

They sprang apart and Doyle morphed into his demon spikes, headbutting the vampire. But, as that one staggered back clutching at his face, another one jumped out and landed on Cordelia, pushing her to the ground. Doyle grabbed the stake from his jacket pocket and rammed it through the back of the vamp attacking Cordy. Then he held out his hand and helped her back to her feet. The first vampire launched back at them - and Doyle threw it away from them - sending him flying across the street and clattering into the garbage cans.

Then, there was a squeal of tyres and Wesley pulled up at the kerbside in front of Doyle and Cordy. 'Get in,' he yelled. They scrambled inside, but the vampire was back - clinging onto the door and stopping Doyle from closing it. Cordelia glanced out of the rear window - a gang of vampires were now headed towards them, walking down the street towards the jeep. 'Come on!' she yelled. Doyle kicked the vamp in the face, managing to dislodge him and got the door shut. 'Let's go,' he said. Wesley hit the gas and, as they drove away, Doyle morphed back into his human face.

* * *

Lorne, Fred and Gunn were sitting in the lobby - gathered round the monitor - watching Angelus. Angelus was singing to himself, quietly, again. '_If you go down to the woods today you won't believe your eyes…' _

'He's so relaxed,' Fred said - it didn't seem right, he was locked up in a cage, held by his enemies, and it was like he didn't even care.

'It's like he's not even in a cage,' Gunn added. The way he moved around, the soft prowling walk - it didn't seem like he was inhibited by the bars - like he was trapped. It was like, he could walk right through them if he wanted to, he just didn't want to. Or maybe it was like he couldn't see them - and so didn't recognise there were limits on how far he could move. But - whatever it was - there was no pacing. This was no crazed polar bear in a zoo enclosure; this was a man entirely at his ease.

'In his mind, he's not in a cage,' Lorne told them. He could see it plainly. Angelus lived his life in a cage - in the prison of meat and bone that was Angel. Angel was a far better gaol than any metal bars could be. Angel stopped Angelus from thinking, from feeling, from acting - he cramped him down, tight - shut away in a box and hidden, where no one could hear him scream. But now - now he was free. Free to think. Free to feel. Free to twist people and hurt people, lie and manipulate and cause exquisite pain, even if he was not free to kill. He was free of the guilt, as well. Free of the burden of his soul. A cage was just no comparison to the torment Angelus was used to living in, locked inside Angel.

Lorne grimaced and got up to switch the monitor off. He'd had enough. 'You gettin' anything off him?' Gunn asked curiously.

'Put it this way, moon pie,' the green demon replied, 'you don't want to know.'

'I don't,' Fred agreed, nodding vehemently, 'I definitely don't.'

The front door opened, and the other half of the team walked in. Fred and the others turned to look at them anxiously. 'What happened?' she asked - noticing the way Doyle and Cordelia's clothes were all mussed. 'Vampires,' Doyle said, succinctly.

'Two,' Cordy added, 'and there would have been a whole load more if Wes hadn't got us out of there when he did.'

'Oh…' Fred glanced at Wesley - a slight blush tinging her cheeks. He had saved the team yet again - and he still wasn't stepping forward and claiming the credit. He kept doing that. He was right, when he said they needed him. Things fell apart without him - and he always knew how to put them back together. 'You didn't get the Svear?' she asked.

Wesley shook his head, 'no - The Beast did. Slaughtered the entire family.'

Her face wrinkled up - that didn't make much sense. Angelus had said that The Beast wanted his help because he couldn't touch the Svea priestesses - he needed Angelus as a proxy. 'He must have found a way to kill them, after all,' she said.

'So much for our big priestess rescue,' Gunn said. They all looked at each other - not sure where to go from here. 'Are we sure Angelus doesn't know anything more?' Fred asked. But Wesley shook his head, 'no, I think he's told us everything he's going to.'

'So … this was a lot o' use,' Doyle said, sticking his hands in his back pockets and looking uncomfortable. 'We bring forth the king o' the creeps - he tears us apart with his half truths and falsehoods and then - what? We all just move on like nothin' happened?'

'It was our last ditch plan,' Gunn shrugged, 'it was a bust.' He looked at Wesley, 'if Angelus can't tell us anything more…'

'Then it's time to bring Angel back,' Wesley confirmed. 'We'll need the shaman.'

* * *

Cordelia sat at the top of the basement steps, in the dark. She had a stake in her hand, which she was playing with, absentmindedly. Down at the bottom of the staircase, inside the cage, she could hear Angelus prowling up and down. 'I can smell you, Cordelia,' his singsong voice floated upward, 'I know you're there. Is it time to collect my reward? Don't be shy, little one.'

She took a deep breath and held it - closing her eyes and willing herself to stay calm, to not feel afraid. The door opened behind her and she twisted to look. Doyle stepped through and sat down next to her. 'Hey,' he said, softly.

'Hey.'

'Why are you here? We're just gettin' ready…'

'I just …' she wasn't sure what to say, 'I just wanted to look at him - to see him. Before … is that weird?'

'Little bit,' Doyle answered, frowning. She laughed. 'I'm supposed to be with Angel, now,' she said. She felt Doyle tense beside her, 'I know,' he said.

'No - I don't mean … what I mean is… Angel and I are supposed to be moving into a relationship. A serious one, with love and dates and presents.'

'From Angel? You're barkin' up the wrong tree, there, darlin'. It takes a monkey wrench to crowbar open the big man's wallet.'

She laughed again, 'OK - maybe not that last stuff. But … we're supposed to be an item. And - ever since Sunnydale - I've been more afraid of Angelus than anything else. He's haunted my nightmares. I've prepared for his return for the past 4 years, straight. And he's down there - in that cage - and I see him and I think… how can I be with Angel when Angelus is the other half of him?'

'Angel isn't Angelus, you know that, Cordy.' He didn't want to say it, but he knew he had to; to make her feel better … and because it was true.

'But he could become him any moment,' Cordelia pointed out. 'And then what? I guess, I just really wanted to take a good look at what I might be getting myself into.'

Down at the bottom of the steps, they heard Angelus come to a halt. 'Who are you talking to?' his voice floated upward. They heard him sniff.

'You know, you don't owe him anything,' Doyle said, carefully, 'you're free to change your mind if…'

Cordelia looked round at him - and, even in the dark, he could tell he'd said the wrong thing - that he'd annoyed her. 'Oh, you'd like that - wouldn't you,' she snapped, getting to her feet. 'That would suit you down to the ground, if I let Angelus scare me off dating Angel.'

'No - Cordy, that's not what I… I don't expect us to get back together.' He got back to his own feet.

'But you don't want me to be with anyone else.'

'That's not what I said.'

They heard Angelus begin to chuckle. 'It's Doyle,' he said, identifying her companion. 'So - Doyle, did you come down here to watch. That's a step beyond just being OK with it - actually watching us. Or would that get you off? It would get Angel off, alright. Making you watch, as he takes the woman you love - makes her his own. Talk about putting you back in your place.'

'What is he talking about?' Doyle asked, looking at Cordelia, suspiciously.

'Nothing - he's deluded.'

'You're not backing out on our deal, are you now, Cordelia?' Angelus crooned to her, 'not after you promised…'

She sighed - and walked down the stairs. Doyle followed her. Angelus leered at them from between the bars, 'so how's this gonna work?' he asked, 'you come in here and he stays out there - or are we all gonna join in the fun?'

'Yeah - might not wanna get ahead of yourself,' Cordelia said to him - she still had the stake in her hand - though she was no longer holding it absentmindedly. Her grip had shifted. She was ready to use it if she had to. 'The Beast got to the Svear before we did. Butchered them - we found them all.'

'I'm always missing out on the fun stuff... but still, I told you everything I know.'

'Too late.'

'And who's fault is that? Doesn't matter, anyway. I showed you mine. Now you show me yours.'

Cordy glanced back at Doyle but she looked away, again, before she spoke. As if she couldn't bear to see his face when he heard the bargain she had struck. Even if she was welching. 'The deal was: you give us information, we save the world, you get me. Well, world not saved.'

* * *

Wesley swung open the picture from the wall and began to turn the dial on the safe.

* * *

'What on earth did y' say that to him for, Princess?' Doyle sounded appalled. She swung round to look at him, defiance blazing in her eyes, 'it got him to talk, didn't it? Where everything else had failed. I used what bargaining power we had - and I'd do it again.'

'I knew it was somethin' like this!'

'What's it to you?'

'Uh - _hello!_' Angelus cut through the argument. 'Caged guy, owed a debt, here. And you can't possibly think I'm just gonna let this go?'

'What are you gonna do about it, bud?' Doyle asked, 'locked in a big, steel cage?'

'I won't be in here forever.'

'No you won't,' Cordelia agreed, 'about another hour,' she smiled, 'we're putting your soul back.'

'And it's gonna stay that way for a long, long time.'

But Angelus only chuckled, 'not gonna happen,' he warned.

Cordelia took another step forward. 'What you don't get, Angelus,' she said to him, 'is that you're nobody, just a disease - and Angel can't wait to be rid of you.'

Angelus ignored her words and leered through the bars at her. 'I think I'll start with the twins,' he said to her. 'Is that where you started, Doyle? When she used to let you get a bit of touch? Me? I just love a woman with nice, ripe thighs…' his arms suddenly thrust forward - reaching out to grab Cordy. His grasp was short by less than an inch. She stood her ground. 'Not even close,' she said. 'C'mon Doyle - I've seen enough.' The pair of them turned to go.

'The more you piss me off, the longer I'll keep you alive,' Angelus called after their retreating backs. 'And I know you're a screamer, Cordy - isn't that right, Doyle?' He rubbed his hands up and down the bars, 'I used to listen to the way you would make her moan. I'd lie there - _stiff_ with jealousy - and picture what you could possibly be doing to get a sound out of her, like that. If a little runt like you can make her scream - what couldn't a real man do for her?'

But they chose to ignore him, attempting to block out his words - and closed the basement door - leaving him alone, for his last few moments.

* * *

They arrived back to the office to find everybody else stood in there, in grim silence, staring at the safe. 'What is it?' Cordelia asked.

'Angel's soul,' Fred said. Wesley stepped away from the wall revealing the inside of the safe. 'It's gone.'

The safe was empty.

* * *

**A/N We're now half way through the season! I can't believe we're here already (especially as I haven't even written the end of the season yet! But I'm confident I can stay ahead of myself ... yeah. Probably) but there is still a lot of good stuff to come. Especially now Angel is evil, which means Cordelia and Doyle can get more and more page time together - and keep on being adorable. Next episode is 'Calvary' (and not 'cavalry' - which I thought it was for nearly 20 years, or 'Calgary' - which is a place in Canada. Calvary - the place of the skull, where Jesus died. Because Angel is Jesus, I guess?)**

**Thanks for reading this far - I really appreciate every view, especially the people who come back again and again, the people who have favourited/followed and of course the wonderful readers who kindly give up their time to leave comments. See you on Friday. **


	45. Calvary: Part One

**Calvary**

_Part One_

The shaman prayed in his sacred space; casting the bones and chanting. From in the next room he could hear the sounds of fighting: wood splintering; glass smashing; bodies being hurled across the room. He prayed on.

There was a scream - and then his guard was thrown bodily into the shaman's prayer room, landing just outside the sacred circle: unconscious. Wo Pang shook his head, 'need to get better guards,' he muttered. He looked up - and saw three of the vampire's friends enter through the beaded curtain.

'Angel's soul has been stolen,' Wesley said. Wo Pang stared at him for a moment, understanding the accusation behind that statement. 'I have no need for the vampire's soul,' he shrugged.

'So … what happened to it?' Doyle asked, 'where is it?'

Wo Pang rolled his dice and read their meaning. 'That - I cannot discern… but it's still viable within the Muo Ping.'

'It's still safe within its container?' Wesley clarified. Wo Pang nodded.

'Right,' Cordelia turned her brightest, thousand kilowatt smile on the shaman, 'OK - so … the container is lost or misplaced or whatever. I bet this stuff happens all the time, am I right? You've got some … dark, chanty backup plan hidden away up your tailored purple sleeve … right?' Her voice wavered with uncertainty at the end.

Wo Pang's eyes were pitying, when he answered. 'There is no other way known to me. Without the Muo Ping…' he shrugged, 'you're screwed.' The three team members all glanced at each other in dismay. 'OK then, bud,' Doyle said, turning back to the shaman, 'quick question - this Muo Ping - mystical jar thingy. It was glass or ceramic, right?' Wo Pang nodded - and Doyle looked awkward, 'so - uh - what if it... gets broken … a little bit?'

'You just had to ask that!' Cordelia muttered, elbowing him in the ribs.

'Ow!'

Wo Pang waited until they had stopped tussling before he answered Doyle's question. His voice was solemn, when he finally spoke: 'then, like all things, the soul can be returned … or destroyed.'

* * *

Gunn and Fred were alone together in the lobby - except for the constant companion of Angelus, on the monitor; continually whispering his poison and torment directly into their ears. 'Awfully quiet up there,' he was saying. They could see him, on the screen, he was stood at the very edge of his cage, hands wrapped around the bars - pressing his face through as far as he could. 'I've had time to think,' he said, 'and I've realised something important. Being evil is wrong. I want to be good. I want to be Angel again. You hear me? I'm ready!'

'He knows, doesn't he?' Fred said quietly, 'that his soul is missing.'

'Probably knew before we did,' Gunn replied. He finished pouring gasoline into the tank attached to his weapon and then tested the flame thrower. The flames spurted out. Gunn nodded in satisfaction.

'I hope the shaman can help us,' Fred said - her eyes were glued to the screen, watching the vampire taunt them.

'That shaman should never have been brought here. Now, instead of just worrying about the big bad rocky, we got Darth Vampire living in the basement.'

Fred looked up at him, 'bringing Angelus was our best chance,' her tone was admonishing. Gunn snorted in impatience and disgust. 'That you talking, or Wes?'

'You were pushing for it too. Charles.'

'Then maybe I did the wrong thing.'

'Like smacking your girl around?' Angelus said - down on the monitor. He began to grin, 'I betcha Wesley would never hit her. He's all proper and English. And that accent - oh, chicks love a good accent. Makes them all buttery in the nether regions - aint that right, Fred?'

Fred looked down, embarrassed unable to meet Gunn's eye. Angelus continued to taunt. 'You know, I had a bit of an Irish brogue back in the day - and let me tell ya, a Galway accent is a far finer thing than that city boy Dub accent the halfbreed sports. Lilting and mellifluous. I could show you, Fred, if you like. If you like, I could use it on you when I ... rape you to death … or -'

Gunn switched the monitor off, his face twisted in anger. 'Son of bitch,' he muttered.

'It's only words,' Fred tried to reassure him - tried to reassure herself.

'Yeah.'

'And that's the only way he can hurt us. He knows he's never getting out.'

* * *

Down in the basement, Angelus smirked, as he saw a figure emerge from the shadows; carrying a crow bar and heading towards his cage. Lilah.

'The great Angelus,' she said - looking in at him. She was looking rather the worse for wear. Her hair was messy, her skin was smudged and dirty, her clothes were ragged and she was moving slowly, painfully - as if she was greatly weakened, somehow.

'Oh come on,' Angelus leered at her, 'You can do better than that. Try playing up the awe and reverence a bit. "The Great Angelus".'

' Great - locked in a cage,' she said, drily.

'And yet still managing to display better grooming habits than you. Look at yourself, Lilah. All these years wanting to meet me. Couldn't run a comb through your hair, maybe slap on a little lipstick. Evil doesn't have to mean sloppy.'

'Stop it.'

He chuckled, 'ooh - feeling touchy are we?'

She shook her head ever so slightly. He was as dumb as soul boy. 'The Beast,' she said to him, slowly and calmly, 'I want you to stop it.'

Angelus thought about it for a moment. He wasn't really sure he wanted to. Not that he was a fan of the horn job, or anything, but - he had managed to pull off permanent midnight and you had to give him props for that.

Lilah felt the impatience rise within her, 'can you do it? Or not?' She was living in the sewers. The Beast had taken everything - and she meant everything. He'd killed everyone at Wolfram and Hart. And she didn't just mean all the people at the office that day; she was talking about everybody: field ops, liaisons, people out sick that day. But it hadn't got her. Not yet. 'Why is he picking on us?' she yelled, exasperated, 'we're the bad guys!'

'Apparently not bad enough,' Angelus chuckled, 'but - there is a bright side. At least you have a devoted boyfriend who loves and cares -' he broke off to laugh again, 'oh no, wait, you don't! Your life really is crap.'

'And yet, I'm not the monkey in the box.' She raised the crowbar, 'can you do it?'

He smiled. 'Maybe we can work something out.'

* * *

Fred had switched the monitor back on, but she had turned it down low - so they wouldn't have to hear. They weren't actually watching, either. They were arguing. All they ever seemed to do these days was argue. 'What Angelus said before,' Gunn was saying to her, 'I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never do that.'

'I know. I just can't help but think - if you didn't attack…'

'_Attack? _That's how you see it? I attacked him?' He sounded furiously disbelieving. 'What do you call what he was doing in the office before I walked in?'

She looked away from him, shaking her head, 'I don't know what you're …'

'He was kissing you!' Her head snapped back round to face him. 'Don't lie to me,' he said to her, 'it's the one thing you're not good at.'

She looked helpless, trying to find a way to explain it away - make out it was nothing. 'It just … happened.'

But he wasn't letting this go. 'Because you let it! I've never felt so much for anyone. I'd do anything for you, but it's not enough is it?'

She looked down, shaking her head - not knowing what to say - not quite sure what was happening here, to them. It couldn't be… 'Charles, I'm…'

'I can't do this anymore, Fred,' he said to her. His voice was heavy, but decided. 'I'm tired of you looking everywhere, but at me.' The door opened and Wesley walked through it. Fred turned to look up at him. Gunn shook his head, 'just like that,' he muttered - and walked away.

Doyle and Cordelia followed Wes through the door. Wesley noticed Fred stood in the middle of the lobby - alone - looking dejected. He went straight over to her. 'What is it?'

She looked up at him and forced a smile, 'oh - I just can't make head or tails of this banishing text,' she covered, 'any luck?' she asked them.

'Plenty o' luck,' Doyle told her, 'and all my usual - bad with a side o' worse. The shaman doesn't have the soul. Doesn't know who took it or how to find it.'

'Other than that - everything's peachy,' Cordelia said. Then she asked if Lorne had had any luck with contacts - had they heard anything? But before Fred could answer - Gunn had finally looked on the monitor and noticed - 'damnit!' he yelled, he grabbed a gun and ran downstairs. Wesley went over to the monitor to see what had caused him alarm - and then hastily followed on. The others ran after him.

* * *

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Lilah turned to look. She saw Gunn coming down - aiming his tranq gun at Angelus. He fired a dart and hit the vampire in the arm. Angelus staggered back - wincing. Lilah dropped her crow bar and ran from the basement - back the way she had come, down into the sewers. Gunn kept his tranq gun pointed at Angelus, as the others came down. 'Lilah,' he told them, 'ran off into the sewers.' Wesley made for the tunnel access - to follow her. Doyle started to go with, but Gunn stopped him. It might be a set up, there may be more of them. Wes could handle Lilah - but they might need all the fighters they had to stop Wolfram and Hart from getting Angelus.

Doyle checked the locks, as Gunn kept the now collapsed Angelus covered with the gun. 'What was she thinking? Letting him out?' he asked.

'How does she even know he was here?' Cordelia asked.

'She's a muckety muck at Wolfram and Hart. it's her job to know.'

Locks checked, Doyle turned back to them, 'you think maybe Lilah took Angel's soul?' he asked. 'It's the kind o' thing she'd do.'

'Why isn't she dead?' Fred was frowning, it didn't make sense. 'I thought The Beast killed everyone at Wolfram and Hart.' She wasn't likely to forget that scene of slaughter and bloodshed any time soon, or the army of zombies, which had followed.

'Maybe she cut some kind of deal with The Beast,' Gunn answered tersely.

'If anyone could - Lilah could,' Cordelia agreed, nodding her head, slowly.

'She is the queen o' the evil schemes,' Doyle said, looking confused, 'but - why did you all think she was dead?'

They were interrupted by a noise from upstairs - and they all turned to look upward. 'Wolfram and Hart operatives?' Cordelia asked, quietly.

'I think they're usually stealthier than that, darlin',' Doyle told her, 'I'll go up and look - you guys … guard Angelus, just in case.'

* * *

When he got back up to the lobby, it seemed deserted. He looked around cautiously. Another slight noise came from the office. He headed there. Carefully, he pushed the door open. Kali looked up from the desk. She had a book open and was reading. 'What are y' doin'?' he asked her.

She smiled. 'Oh … I was just going stir crazy up in that room, watching the baby. Couldn't stand being cooped up another minute - so I decided to come down and help with the research. But no one was around - so I just picked a book and got cracking.' She raised the large, leather bound book she was reading to prove her point.

Doyle nodded, 'uhuh - OK, is Connor alright?'

'He's fine,' Kali said, turning back to her book. 'He and the Groosalug are building a tower together. They're great friends.'

'Good, good - well, we've just had a bit of excitement downstairs. Turns out Lilah - oh you don't know Lilah - evil lawyer lady.'

'I know Lilah,' Kali said, absentmindedly, turning the page in her book.

'Oh? You do? Well - she got into the basement and was gonna let Angelus roam free. She ran off. We're all down there - now. I'll … I'll get back to them and leave you to it.'

...

As he headed back out of the office, the front door opened again. He looked up in confusion - everyone was already inside the hotel. His expression became one of surprise when he saw who it was. 'What are you guys doin' here?' he asked.

'Actually, Doyle,' Kate said to him, 'we're here to talk to you.'

'Me?'

* * *

Lindsey and Kate came in and sat down at the counter. Doyle made them some coffee. Just as he was handing them the cups, Cordelia came back upstairs, wondering what had happened to him. 'What's going on?' she frowned, seeing the cop and her lawyer boyfriend.

'Um - Kate has - has some questions about a crime scene … for me.'

'What did you do?' Her frown deepened. Doyle shrugged.

'I was called out to a homicide last night, in Pacoima,' Kate said to them, 'an entire family had been massacred.'

'Oh…' Doyle nodded sadly, 'them.'

'You know what I'm talking about? You were there?'

'Of course we were there,' Cordelia answered. She sat down at the counter, next to Lindsey, and smiled when Doyle passed her her own cup of coffee. 'Who do you think rang the police?'

'That was you guys?' Lindsey asked, 'you were there last night - not before?'

'They'd been dead for days, Wes said,' Cordelia told them, 'but we only found them last night. What with everything that's been going on - no one knew they were missing. But … how come you only wanted to speak to Doyle?'

'We pulled prints from the scene,' Kate explained, 'some matched the family, some were unidentifiable - that's expected; a family home, people - neighbours, friends, relatives - come in and touch things - doesn't mean anything. But one set of prints we ran came up as a hit on someone already in our system.'

'Me,' Doyle said.

'Yeah - so we came to have a chat. What were you doing there?'

Doyle and Cordy glanced at each other - and then, between them, began to explain about The Beast and the Svear and how they had hoped that family could help them. 'They were working on it, too,' Cordelia said, 'we have their banishing incantation … but we don't have their power. We can't understand what it says or what to do with it. So … we're back at square one.'

'So … you were just there to visit, contaminate the crime scene and then leave?' Lindsey said, 'you don't know anything else?'

'Well, we didn't got there to _contaminate the crime scene! _And we know who killed them, but it won't help you - you can hardly put lava boy in jail,' Cordy replied. She looked between the two of them, suddenly suspicious, 'you're not gonna try and pin this on Doyle are you? 'Cause we'll vouch for him. They were dead when we got there. Way dead.'

'So … you guys know all about the things that have been happening recently?' Lindsey asked, 'fire falling from the sky, plagues of toads, eternal darkness?'

'We're working on sorting it,' Cordelia nodded.

'There were plagues of toads?' Doyle asked in confusion. They all looked at him, he shrugged. 'Sorry - carry on.'

'And how are you sorting it?' Kate asked, 'because I'd really like something I can tell my supervisor.'

Doyle and Cordelia glanced at each other again. 'Well, actually, we might have made things worse,' Cordy said, hesitantly, 'you see… down in the basement…'

* * *

Wesley ran through the sewers. He had lost sight of Lilah - but he knew she must have gone this way. She suddenly jumped out at him, from a recess - a two by four in her hands. She tried to hit him with it, but she was weak and he easily caught her arm. 'You're a son of a bitch, you know that?' she said, turning from him and limping away. She sank to the floor, leaning against the wall - her hand pressed against her still bleeding stomach wound.

Wesley looked around, 'when I said 'go underground' I didn't think you'd…' the smile slid from his face when he noticed she was in pain. He looked at where she pressed against her wound, 'is that where The Beast…?'

'I can't make it stop.'

'I could take a look at it.'

But she shook her head, refusing his help. 'How did you know we had Angelus?' Wesley asked her.

'Big magic, taking a champion's soul - causes ripples. I still know some people that like ripples. That was your idea to bring him back? … Great minds…' she sighed, 'I wasn't really gonna release him - but I needed him to think... it doesn't matter anymore. I just - I just wanted my life back. My pretty things. I'm selfish that way. It's why you and I would never have worked out.'

'There are many reasons why you and I wouldn't have worked out, Lilah,' Wesley said softly. She looked away from him, not wanting him to see her pain. He looked around again - at the place where she had been living; the few meagre belongings she had piled in a corner. He saw the book lying at the top and picked it up. 'Rheinhardt's Compendium,' he said.

'I need to find a way to make it pay,' she explained.

Wesley was leafing through the book. He had already looked through his own copy. 'There's nothing in here that even remotely…' he squinted as he caught sight of a passage, 'describes…' he turned the page. There was a picture of The Beast - and all the information there was to know about him, alongside. He held the book up to Lilah. 'It's identical to my copy, except for this passage - how is that possible?'

'It's not a local copy,' she smirked - a shadow of her wolf's grin. Even beaten, injured and hiding in the sewers, she had managed to stay one step ahead of the whitehats - and she was shallow enough to acknowledge that that pleased her. 'Pulled some favours, got it on the pan-dimensional black market.'

'But still … they should be the exact same text. Unless…' his brain ticked over, whirring, as he considered the possibilities, analysed the data and formed a conclusion. 'We'd have to check other books from different dimensions,' he acknowledged, 'but what if there were other references to The Beast at sometime that had somehow been removed? What would something that powerful need to hide?'

* * *

Doyle and Cordy led the two newcomers down to the basement, where Fred and Gunn were still on guard and Angelus was still lying unconscious on the floor of the cage.

'I still can't believe you did this,' Lindsey was saying.

'We had no other choice,' Cordelia replied - sounding a little irritated at being lectured to by born again boy.

'And did it help?'

'_No_.'

They came to a stop and stared down at the prone vampire. 'That's really him?' Kate asked, 'when he wakes up he'll be…'

'The one and only Angelus?' Gunn said, 'yeah, that's him. And we've been thinking down here, we've got a whole mess more problems than we realised.'

'How'd y' figure?' Doyle asked.

'cause - Lilah or not - something is doing The Beast's dirty work.'

'You mean something else is working for The Beast?' Cordelia looked between Gunn and Fred. They nodded and she looked thoughtful, 'that would explain how they managed to tiptoe right past us and kill Manny.'

'And how it slaughtered the Svear,' Doyle said, 'he wasn't supposed to be able to touch them.'

'Is that the family?' Kate asked. They nodded. 'So - you're saying that This 'Beast' didn't kill them, but I'm looking for the someone working for him who did?'

'And our current top suspect is no more than one Miss Lilah Morgan,' Doyle said. But Lindsey shook his head. 'Not Wolfram and Hart's style,' he said. They all looked at him in surprise. He shrugged, 'OK - yeah - a massacre, slaughter of innocents, sure the old firm loves a piece of that. But unless This 'Beast' was paying the big bucks - they didn't do his wetworks for him. The Senior Partners are very particular about who they represent.'

'You mean anyone evil enough?' Cordelia said, arching her eyebrow at the lawyer.

'I mean anyone who can pay. Unless this guy has a hidden Swiss bank account, he isn't a client.'

'And besides -' Fred sounded uncomfortable, 'even if Lilah _is_ evil, I don't see her hacking up all those people.'

'Well - maybe it's not just her,' Gunn pointed out. 'Maybe … maybe the big bad Beast has minions doing his dirty work.'

A low chuckle emanated from inside the cage - and they all turned to stare. Angelus was awake. 'Morons,' he said, sitting up, 'The big rock doesn't have minions. It _is_ the minion.'

'No it's not,' Fred argued, 'we've seen what it can do.'

He chuckled again, 'all you've seen is the warm up act.'

'What are you saying?' Cordelia asked.

'I'm saying there's something bigger. Something worse. The Beast has a boss.'


	46. Calvary: Part Two

_Part Two_

They stared at Angelus, who smiled back at them - his smirking, evil leer. 'Something worse than The Beast?' Gunn asked, 'what do you know?'

'Quite a bit - maybe I'll fill in the blanks sometime.'

'Pretty boy doesn't know anything,' Lindsey said, after staring at Angelus for a long time, looking him up and down. 'He's making it up. Wants to feel important, whilst he's locked in that cage. Wants to keep you all jumping.'

'What makes you so sure?' Doyle asked.

'When I was at Wolfram and Hart we did a lot of work on Angelus, researching, running scenarios and making predictions for how he would react in any given set of circumstances. Did the same for Angel, too. We had to really get under his skin, get into his mind.'

'Not to be rude,' Cordelia said, Doyle glanced at her - wondering if she was about to be very rude - 'but those scenarios were pointless. Angelus is unpredictable. Unless your scenarios were about stalking in the shadows and leaving creepy pictures lying around- which is a big part of his act - then you've got no idea. He does whatever evil thing takes his fancy, in the moment.' Doyle nodded his head, thoughtfully, he'd heard her be a lot ruder. All she was doing here was talking sense.

'The lady knows me,' Angelus clasped his hand to his heart.

'I do,' she turned to look at him. 'So - if you're so smart, tell us, how do you know The Beast is working for somebody else?'

'Because I've got a brain, lover,' he said to her - his tone was nasty. 'The Beast I knew was big into smash and slaughter. Had the brawn to be really good at it, too, but the big picture - not his strong point. But whoa! Flash forward and now he's all rain of fire, destroying the Ra-tet, blocking out the sun. Big moves for a guy whose head's made out of rock.'

'Maybe he got smarter,' Cordelia suggested.

'And maybe I'll sprout wings and flutter away. There's something else out there, more powerful, more vicious - pulling all the strings.' His grin widened. 'I don't know about you, but I'm just dying to find out what.'

* * *

They left him to it - returning up to the lobby. They kept the monitor on low - so they could keep an eye on him, make sure he received no more uninvited visitors - but quiet enough that they didn't have to hear his ramblings. Kali was still sat in the office - though the door was open - looking through the books. No one was inclined to join her - they'd all looked before, there was nothing there.

The front door opened and they looked up. Lilah and Wesley walked through. 'What? No cake?' Lilah asked - when she saw the looks on their faces.

'Where is it?' Fred asked without preamble. Lilah didn't understand.

'Angel's soul,' Cordelia said.

The lawyer rolled her eyes, 'oh - that.'

'She doesn't have it,' Wesley told them all. They stared at him in disbelief, lying was a part of her job - why would he trust anything she said? He didn't answer. But Lilah opened her coat - revealing the gaping wound in her abdomen, 'wanna search me?' she asked. She glanced across and caught sight of Lindsey and Kate, 'oh look - the good side of the law is here, too,' she said, 'I guess we can all rest easier knowing the authorities are on the case of the giant magma demon. They'll be so _well equipped_ to deal with him.'

'Lilah - ' Cordelia was staring at her wound, unable to take her eyes off it, 'what happened to you?'

Wesley answered for her, 'she was injured in the attack on Wolfram and Hart.'

Gunn folded his arms across his chest, 'that place was a slaughter house,' he said. He nodded towards Lilah, 'how'd she make it out?'

'I got lucky,' Lilah said, with a sarcastic smile. She gently lowered herself onto one of the sofas, wincing slightly at the tug to her injury.

'I know you're evil and everything,' Cordelia said, 'but do you want me to look at that?'

'Nothing stops it,' Lilah told her, 'it must be cursed or hexed or some damn thing. It won't heal, it won't close, it won't stop bleeding.'

'At least let me get you a clean bandage.' She went to go get her first aid kit and then sat beside Lilah on the couch - cleaning her wound and taping some clean gauze across it. 'So…' she said once she had finished, 'what were you doing downstairs with Angelus?'

Lilah smirked, 'nice segue,' she said.

'She was gathering intel,' Wesley informed them. Gunn looked unconvinced, 'with a crowbar? She's the only one who makes it out of Wolfram and Hart alive and then she shows up right after Angel's soul goes missing?'

'I already told you, she had nothing to do with that,' Wesley sounded quite heated.

'But … do y' know who does?' Doyle asked Lilah, 'seems to me, if y' know enough to know our boys gone bad again - then you might know enough to know who'd be interested in acquiring his soul as a curio.'

'Maybe she knows who's controlling The Beast,' Fred suggested.

'Controlling?' Lilah glanced around at them. From her nonplussed expression, it looked like this was news to her. Gunn explained what Angelus had told them. How rock-boy was just the muscle - if the vampire was to be believed. 'Everything that's happened is part of a bigger plan,' Cordelia said, 'with something worse than The Beast sketching the blueprints.'

Doyle glanced around the crowded room, his arms folded across his chest. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Kali working away in the office. 'Now we just got somethin' else to find,' he said, his voice heavy, 'Angel's soul, The Beast, and the big evil yankin' his strings.'

'Of course!' Wesley sounded like he had just realised something - everyone looked at him in surprise. 'That's what he's been trying to hide! There might be something in the text we can...'

'Hang on,' Cordelia said, 'what text? I thought the books were empty?' In the office Kali stopped working and looked up - listening to what news Wesley had brought. He held up Lilah's copy of the book. 'Lilah found a passage in Rheinhardt's compendium,' he told them all.

Fred frowned, 'but we searched that already. There was nothing in there.'

'Because all references to The Beast have been erased in this dimension,' Wesley explained. Kali had now abandoned her book and come to listen at the door. She leaned on the doorframe, her arms folded. 'So … where is that book from?' she asked, nodding at the text in Wesley's hand.

'I got my copy of Rheinhardt's … way out of town,' Lilah said. She smirked at Fred, 'I'm surprised _you_ didn't think of that.'

'That's why Angel doesn't remember The Beast,' Gunn realised. Whatever mojo had wiped the books clean had wiped Angel's memory as well. That was powerful stuff.

'Am I bein' thick?' Doyle asked - looking around. 'Probably,' Lilah muttered under her breath, but he ignored her. 'Why does Angelus remember him then? If his mind was supposedly scrubbed clean?'

'Because Angelus' mind wasn't present when the spell - or whatever - took place,' Fred explained to him. She glanced at Wesley, 'am I right?' The watcher nodded at her.

'OK then - I am bein' thick,' Doyle nodded, accepting her words. 'Good to know.' Cordelia patted him on the shoulder, comfortingly - and he twisted round to look at her. They smiled at each other.

Wesley was looking at Fred, 'we need to go over this text,' he said, indicating the book, 'cross reference it with the banishing spell of the Svear - maybe we can make some headway-'

Gunn snorted and picked up the flame thrower - walking away from the group, 'yeah - have fun with that.'

'Charles…' Fred started to say, but he interrupted her. 'Someone needs to be downstairs, make sure no one else tries to _intel _our boy.'

Fred looked like she was going to follow him, but Cordelia stopped her, 'just let him go, sweetie,' she said. 'He needs space - and we need you to do your thing, it's the best way of bringing Angel back.'

* * *

'You know what I admire about you, Charles?' Angelus asked. He was stood in the middle of his cage. Gunn was sat on a table, at the side, the tip of his flame thrower was lit and pointing towards the vampire, but he wasn't looking at him. Not that that bothered Angelus. Gunn could hear him - and that was all he needed. 'You play to your strengths,' he told him. 'You know what they are and you stick to them. You don't find that much these days. Everybody always trying to expand their horizons, actuate their potential, and all that other touchy-feely crap. But not you. You don't try to change... because you know your place.'

Gunn finally turned to look at him, his expression was dark and angry. That just made Angelus smile. 'That'll go a long way towards keeping you alive. Well, a lot longer than the others. Man, you guys really are on a streak. You let L.A. nearly burn to the ground, lost the sun, let the creepy crawlies practically take over the city. But you know, that's OK. At least you've got the love of a good woman ... 'Til she dumps you for a guy with a bigger horizon.'

Gunn hung his head, focusing his eyes on the tip of the flame thrower, 'it's her life,' he said, sullenly.

Angelus' eyes lit up in sudden, wicked delight. 'Did I miss it?' he asked 'Did she already let you down easy?' He shrugged, 'well - cheer up - it's not like we didn't see it coming. Not after she decided to kill her old professor - and didn't take you along for the ride. Her first murder - quite a moment, one for the album.'

'She never -' Gunn started to say.

'What? She never went through with it? That wasn't her choice though, was it? Old Doyle stopped her, and whilst you were on your knees thanking him for stopping your girl from becoming a killer - she was being eaten away inside with the bitterness of her failure. And that's when things changed between the two of you. Because she was on a path of vengeance - and you were insisting on a path of justice. You just couldn't follow her down that road, Charles old boy, so she started to look elsewhere - for someone who could. And there was Wesley - broody, smart, mysterious and tortured…' Angelus began to chuckle, 'I guess, when you think about it, for the first time in your life, you just weren't dark enough.'

Gunn jumped down from the table and pressed the trigger - sending the flames leaping out towards Angelus, forcing the vampire backwards. Angelus only laughed harder. 'There might be hope for you yet, Chuck,' he said.

* * *

Wesley and Fred were now in the office, going through the books. Kali - having sensed that … there was something to sense between these two - had got up and gone to continue her own reading out in the lobby, with the others. They had been alone, together, in the confined space of the office, for a long time now - and the tension in the air was growing ever thicker - even though they kept their heads down and worked as hard as they could.

'This is hopeless,' Fred said, eventually, 'the Orb of Thesulah is the only way I can find to restore Angel's soul. But that only works if it's moved on to an afterlife or something - not floating around in a jar somewhere.' She closed the book up and sighed. 'We'll get Angel's soul back,' Wesley assured her, getting to his feet.

'How?'

'The way we always do: skill, perseverance, luck.'

'Not much of that going around.'

'We'll be alright.'

'As long as we stick together,' she looked up at him - their eyes met. He cleared his throat and looked awkward, 'Fred. What happened between me and Gunn - I didn't mean - that's not what I wanted. Could you tell him that?'

Tears sprang into her eyes. 'I don't think he'd listen,' she said. She hesitated a moment, and then the words tumbled out, 'we're not together anymore,' she admitted. Wesley looked surprised. 'Oh. Not because of what I did?'

She shook her head, 'things haven't been right for a while.'

He walked towards her. She held her breath. 'I think this is the part where I'm supposed to say I'm sorry,' he said to her - his voice was soft - but breathless. They stepped closer together. 'And I'm really trying to be, but -'

The door opened and Lilah walked in - Cordelia following on behind her. 'Any progress?' the lawyer asked. Wes and Fred stepped apart. 'Not really,' Fred said quickly. She could feel her heart sinking inside of her, like a stone.

'Well, I'm sure it's not for a lack of trying,' Cordelia said. Lilah quirked an eyebrow at Wesley, 'I'll say.' He cleared his throat again - 'I'll go and relieve Gunn,' he said - and left the office to go and spend time in the rather more relaxing company of Angelus.

'So what now?' Lilah asked, when he was gone, 'ouija board?'

'Lorne's back,' Fred nodded through the doorway - where she could see the green demon had just arrived in the lobby. The three women went out to meet him.

* * *

Doyle had, nervously, approached Kate who - like Kali - was keeping busy, flicking through books that she knew wouldn't help them. 'Um, hi,' he said to her. She looked up at him. 'Doyle.'

He sat down beside her on the sofa. 'I just - I wanted … to ask you about that family. The ones we found.'

She closed her book and leaned back to look at him, 'what did you want to know?' she asked.

'Um - well - I saw 'em … saw the slaughter… what - what did forensics say had killed 'em? Weapon wise, I mean.'

'A pointed blade, by the look of the cuts,' she told him, 'a sword - or a dagger. I knew something wasn't right, even before we matched your prints. We don't get that many deaths by sword at the LAPD. It's all gunshot wounds and blunt force trauma.'

'Yeah - right,' he squirmed, uncomfortably, 'and - uh - how long had they been there, like that? Wes said a few days.'

She nodded, 'less than a week - more than 48 hours. We haven't pinpointed a more exact time - but we will. And then we can start investigating properly.' She smiled at him, 'it's good to know you had a legitimate reason to be there, though - and that you went with witnesses. Saves us a headache down the line.'

'Yeah - yeah… that's good.'

She smiled - but it was a questioning smile, her forehead creased into lines of confusion, 'Doyle - why are you asking all this?'

'It just… It hit me hard,' he told the cop, 'I dunno what it was about them - maybe that the kids were so young, or they just seemed like a nice, normal family but… it really got to me, seein' 'em there. Dead.'

'It's always hard,' she told him, 'especially when there's little ones involved. You tell yourself it gets easier but … well, you have to tell yourself that or you couldn't do the job.'

He looked around the lobby - at Lorne talking to Fred and Cordy, at Lilah standing close to them and at Lindsey standing at opposite end of the room; they were slyly eyeing each other and pretending not to. At Kali reading her book. At Gunn sitting on the steps, quiet and contemplative. 'I feel like I've just woken up into a nightmare world,' the Irishman said.

'I know that feeling,' Kate nodded, 'when it rained fire…'

'But that's what I mean.' He interrupted. 'I don't remember that!' Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lilah tense - but he ignored her. 'I don't remember this Beast rising, or the plague o' toads. I don't remember the sky turnin' to fire. Apparently the Beast slaughtered everybody at Wolfram and Hart - and I was there! - and I got nothin'. It's just a blank. It's like I went to sleep and everythin' was the way it was supposed to be and then I woke up - and it was a month later, the sun was gone and the apocalypse was happenin'.'

'You don't remember what's been happening?' Lilah's voice cut through their conversation. She was walking towards him, a calculating expression on her face. Everyone looked up from what they were doing and stared at her - then turned their eyes on Doyle. He gulped. 'No - I told everyone before… I don't remember…'

'What?'

'Anythin',' he admitted. The rest of the team had got to their feet and were coming to stand around him, staring down at him. He looked up at them in alarm. 'I already told you all that,' he said. 'I don't remember nothin' since the spell to get Cordelia's memory back. I was 17 … and then the sun was gone. I told you.'

'How can we believe him?' Lilah asked looking around at the others.

'Because he's _Doyle_,' Cordelia answered - looking at the lawyer like she was mad. Lilah just laughed, 'right,' she said, 'he's _Doyle_. The same Doyle that helped kidnap Angel's baby and then lied to you about it for months? The same Doyle that used to rob banks and steal cars and never thought to mention that? The same Doyle that used to owe money to every underworld creep in the city? _That_ Doyle. Right. What a shining example of an upstanding citizen, he is.'

'But - why would he lie?' Asked Kali. Lilah smiled her wolfish grin, 'you're new here, honey,' she said, 'so let me explain something - it's what he does.' She looked at Doyle, 'so - you're working with The Beast.'

'Whoa! Hey!' Doyle protested - looking around at his friends - and his enemy. 'What's goin' on here? I might be missin' a couple o' weeks, but that doesn't make me anymore evil than Cordy was, when she lost her memory. But what - we're just gonna believe evil lawyer lady? I'm the one missin' the memory here - so you guys shouldn't have forgotten me and her have got a bit o' a history - and she is just lovin' the opportunity to stick the boot in. Turn suspicions away from herself.'

'I dunno, Irish,' Gunn said, 'why can't you remember? Seems kinda funky … or convenient.'

'Cordy - ' he turned to his ex-girlfriend, his face pleading, 'you know I'm not lyin', right? You'd know if I was.'

But instead of coming to his rescue - she frowned. 'I didn't know you were lying to me about Connor,' she pointed out, 'and we were dating then. I've no idea what you've been up to since we broke up. You and I haven't been close in months - and recently you've been completely ignoring me for the pink demon chick.'

Kali looked alarmed, 'don't bring me into this!' she protested. Then she nodded across at Lorne, 'couldn't Lorne read him?' she asked, 'if he's working with The Beast - or lying about his memory loss - Lorne will know.'

'She's right, cherry pie,' Lorne said, 'sing for your uncle Lorne.'

Doyle gulped again, 'I gotta sing?'

'Blast me with those pipes, stud muffin.'

'In public?'

'Doyle - just do it,' Cordelia said. He gulped one final time, cleared his throat and then began to very quietly mumble: '_Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken. And the violence caused such silence. Who are we mistaken.' _He stopped, 'do I have to keep goin'?'

Lorne was looking at him, closely, scrutinising him. 'No…' he said after a while, he turned to the others. 'He's not lying about the amnesia. Though I can't see the cause of it. And he's not working for The Beast.'

'Is he the one controlling The Beast?' Lindsey asked.

'Controlling?' Lorne looked surprised.

'Long story,' Cordelia told him, 'is he?'

'No - he is Beast free. The black wall where his memory should be is a worry - but our little Irish Prince is telling the truth, he's living clean.'

'Told you,' Doyle muttered. Lilah snorted in disappointed disgust, 'I should have known the half breed wouldn't have the brains to pull off something like this,' she said. 'Though I would love to have seen all you whitehats smack him down.'

'God,' Cordelia sighed in frustration, 'look at us!' she exclaimed, 'we're falling apart. Turning on each other, suspecting the people among us of doing this stuff - we need to take serious time to chill. Everyone - go back to … whatever you were doing.' She glanced at her ex boyfriend - guiltily - 'I'll make you some coffee,' she offered.

Kali went back to her book. She stared at the page - she had been staring at this page before the sudden interruption. She had stared at it for so long. The words began to swim in front of her eyes. They blurred and then reformed on the page, coming back into focus. She squinted down at them.

'So - you didn't find anything out?' Fred was asking Lorne. He shook his head. 'Zip - zilch. I've talked to every contact that hasn't beaten it to higher ground and no one's heard a bo-peep about Angel's soul.'

Lilah rolled her eyes, 'forget about the goody goody,' she said to them, 'you wanna kill The Beast and give the boss a run for his evil - the answer is downstairs, in a cage - sick Angelus on him.'

Cordelia looked at her like she was mad, 'do you have any idea what he would do to us if he were free?' she asked.

'Kill you all in a bloody shower of violence - but hey!' she pressed her hands together as if in prayer, 'greater good.'

'We'll find another way,' Cordelia said, But Lilah just laughed. 'Right - sure you will - let me know how that goes.' She sighed, 'you still don't get it - do you, twinkie? The Beast that eviscerated me has a boss. And that boss is going to end life as we know it. And nobody is coming to save us! Not Angel. Not the Powers That Be and not the forty second damn cavalry.'

Kali looked up from her book, 'Hey!' No one listened - they were still listening to Lilah's rant.

'There is no good way to get out of this. There is no way we can all survive. But there is a way to fight it. No - you lost his soul and you have to deal with the consequences because there is no way of getting it back.'

'Hey!' Kali said louder.

'So either kill him or release him, because those are all the options you have left, sunshines. Now, one of those options ends in sweeping out the cage and fighting The Beast alone - and the other ends in Angelus taking that thing out for us. And I know which I choose because, right now, there is no other way.'

Kali got to her feet, 'I said 'Hey!'' she said - at the top of her voice. Everyone turned to look at her, and she raised the book she had been reading. 'I think I've found a way to restore Angel's soul,' she told them.


	47. Calvary: Part Three

_Part Three_

Fred walked down the steps into the basement. Angelus was there, in his cage, whispering at Wesley - who was guarding him. They both looked up when they heard her on the stairs. 'We were just talking about you,' Angelus said to her, 'at least - I was.'

She ignored him. 'We think we've found something,' she said to Wesley, 'a passage, in a book, we think we might be able to get his soul back.'

Wesley got to his feet, ready to follow her - but Angelus was laughing - and they made the mistake of turning back to him. 'Winifred, Winifred,' he said, 'I hear commiserations are in order? Still … we can't pretend it wasn't for the best. I mean - what did the two of you really have in common? Besides what you got up to at night - man I'm gonna miss listening to the screams. But now - now you can go for the real prize.' He walked towards Wesley - looking him up and down, 'mm mm - I'm telling ya - man - if I swung that way … look at him.' He whistled. 'All rugged - and handsome - and brains. Man. He's damn near perfect.'

'Thank you,' Wesley said, drily - he turned to leave, following Fred back up the steps.

'Apart from the part where he's been banging Lilah for the past six months,' Angelus said, behind them. They both stopped. Fred turned to look at Angelus. She laughed, nervously, 'that's…' and then she saw the look on Wesley's face. The guilt written plain to see. 'Kinda takes the shine off him,' Angelus said - and began to laugh, once more.

'Fred…' Wesley began to say. But she shook her head. 'No - it's none of my business - I should …' she headed back upstairs - trying to ignore the leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach and the frantic hammering of her disappointed heart.

* * *

'I think this is it,' Doyle said, when they reached a certain spot in the cemetery. Gunn scanned the area, 'looks like the landmarks from the book,' he agreed. 'Though it wouldn't have killed 'em to stick in a picture - just so we could be sure.'

'Ah - takes all the mystery outta life.'

'Right.' They broke ground with their spades and began to dig on the spot that seemed to best fit the description they had been given. 'You know - diggin's a lot harder than it looks,' Doyle said, after a few minutes steady work and not much progress, 'how come we got stuck with the manual labour part o' the gig?'

'Brute strength and muscle,' Gunn told him, 'that's where we're at.'

'Yeah - yeah - they're really my particular strengths,' Doyle chuckled - and then winced, 'my arms hurt.'

'Suck it up, Irish, we need this bad boy to bring Angel back - or at least his skull.'

'Yeah - it was real nice of the Chumash Indians to leave a soul eater buried in such a convenient location for us,' The half demon said, getting back to his digging, 'it's almost like they knew.'

'Well, Wes said they put him here a couple of hundred years ago - so at least we don't have to worry about him putting up much of a fight.'

'As long as he's where he's supposed to be.'

'If he's not - we're screwed. The skull of a soul eater is the main ingredient of the spell - according to that book.' His shovel hit against something metal - making a clanging noise - and Gunn straightened up and grinned. 'About damn time.' He jumped down into the hole they had dug and began to unlock the box. It was old - and the lock was rusted through - so it didn't take long.

'Be careful,' Doyle warned, from the grave side - but Gunn just shrugged, as he forced open the lid. This thing had been dead for centuries - there was no careful necess...

An arm sprung out from inside the metal coffin and gripped Gunn around the throat. Doyle jumped into the hole and hit at the arm with his axe. The arm was retracted and Gunn gasped for breath. The two of them clambered out of the hole as quick as they could.

'You OK?' Doyle asked.

Gunn still had his hand around his neck - massaging it. He nodded. 'Oh, I so don't need any of that crap. Let's just chop this thing's head off and get out of here as quickly as possible.'

'No arguments, here, bud.'

But, when they peered over the graveside, down into the coffin - it was to find that the metal box was now empty. They looked at each other in dismay. 'OK - this thing is startin' to piss me off,' Gunn said.

The soul eater materialised behind him - it was dark and shadowy and moved faster than the two men, able to appear and disappear in an instant. Gunn swung a punch at it, but it melted away - only to reappear a second later, by Doyle. Doyle took another swing - but the soul eater pushed him to the ground. He scrambled back up, gripping his axe ready. But it was no good - every time Gunn or Doyle tried to attack the soul eater, it would move faster than them - move out of reach - and then reappear behind them.

Doyle swung his axe - but it vanished before he could make contact. But he was getting the hang of it, now. He waited a second - and then span around as fast as he could - axe ready once more. Sure enough, the soul eater had materialised behind him. He made another wild swing with his axe - but, this time, the soul eater grabbed hold of him - holding him by the shirt front - and lifted him off the ground.

Doyle struggled, but it was too strong and he couldn't get free. Meanwhile, the soul eater's hand had begun to glow a sickly, greenish colour, where it rested against Doyle's chest. Doyle began to scream in pain - feeling the light against him act as a great sucking void - and he knew his soul was seeping from his body. He writhed some more - but it was no good - and the pain intensified and he felt weaker and weaker.

And then Gunn was beside them - and he brought down his blade on the soul eater - chopping his arm off by the elbow. Doyle fell to the floor, collapsing in a heap. The green light died away and he breathed heavily, as he felt himself return to normal. Then he noticed the disembodied arm lying on his chest - and he threw it away with a disgusted shriek.

Gunn swung his sword one more time - and this time severed the soul eater's head from its shoulders. It rolled across the ground. But, rather than coming to a stop, it continued to twitch and pulse on the floor. Gunn held his sword, point up, and used the hilt to beat the head several more times - until it eventually went still.

Doyle got back to his feet. 'Nice work,' he said, still breathing heavily. He was almost bent double and was clutching his side like he was nursing a stitch. Gunn looked up at him. 'Sometimes you just gotta keep whacking. You OK?'

'I'll be fine - I just need a stiff drink … or three. This had better work, after all that.'

'Amen to that - if there's really something badder than the Beast - we gotta get Angel back before he comes.'

* * *

In a dark room, lit only by two flickering torches- The Beast knelt on the floor and prayed. 'I am honoured you've come,' he said, 'fire, death and darkness have I bestowed in your name.' He raised something in his hands - a knife that seemed to be made of stone. 'Now, this humble token I offer. Forged of my unworthy bones. A tribute to your power.'

* * *

Fred sat on the floor of her room - in front of her mirror. She was being ridiculous. She felt ridiculous. The apocalypse was coming, the world was falling apart, Angel had lost his soul and they were having to resort to dark magic to bring him back … and here she was, taking time out from the end of life as they knew it, to give herself a blow dry.

She couldn't help herself though. She pulled her hair brush through her long, dark hair - twisting it and holding in place before blasting it with heat. She'd changed her top as well.

Wesley didn't owe her anything, she said to herself, firmly. He had been out of the team - his time was his own, his personal life was his own. And she had been with Charles - God! Until this morning she had been with Charles. She had no right to get upset that Wesley hadn't been living as a monk whilst she skipped around L.A, fighting demons with the man she had chosen over him.

No right at all. No right to feel … and yet still she did. And now Lilah was in the hotel - and Fred was having to face her, having to see her interact with Wesley - and wonder if she hadn't made the biggest mistake of her life when she had kissed Charles at the ballet. But maybe she hadn't. If Wesley could bring himself to be with someone as evil as Lilah - then maybe the mistakes Fred had made had been moving away from Charles - and turning towards Wesley. Maybe everything could have been OK if she had just known sooner…

The one thing she knew was that she couldn't stand around like a little mouse, the shrinking violet, whilst Lilah strutted through the Hyperion on her high heels blasting them all with her best Femme Fatale act. She had to do something - make some kind of move. So she changed her top to a red one and did her hair. It was wavy now, a shiny cascade of silken curls. She leaned forward and started to apply lipstick.

There was a knock on the door, 'Fred, honey, you in there?' she heard Cordelia ask. She didn't reply. 'We need to go and get the other things for the ritual - there are sacraments - weird sacraments - Wes says we might have trouble locating some of them. You coming?'

Fred stared at herself in the mirror. She had to get out there. There was no point in doing herself up, if she was then going to hide away. And she needed to be useful. To show Wesley that … no she needed to do this to help Angel. She got to her feet and opened the door.

...

Cordelia looked surprised, when she saw how dolled up Fred had got, but she covered it, quickly. 'Ready to go?' she asked. Fred nodded and they headed downstairs. She tried not to look at Lilah - or make eye contact with Wes, as he gave them the list of spooky trinkets they needed to acquire. Kate and Lindsey were still sitting on one of the sofas - reading the books. 'Kali not around?' Cordelia asked, looking at everyone else gathered in the space.

Wesley looked around - as if just noticing she wasn't there, '...no,' he said.

Cordelia sighed, 'well, I guess it's just you and me then, Fred, come on.' She walked towards the front door. Without looking at either Wesley or Lilah, Fred scuttled after her.

* * *

By the time Fred and Cordelia returned back to the hotel, with their various makeshift sacraments, Kali had reappeared in the lobby and was back reading her book, alongside Kate. Lorne and Wesley were sitting up at the counter making their own preparations for the coming ritual. And Lilah and Lindsey were still at opposite sides of the room, carefully ignoring each other. 'Here we go,' Cordelia announced, 'seven talismans built to spec,' holding up the various rotting and discarded items she had scavenged.

Fred had a similar bundle in her own hands, 'sometimes I hate this life,' she sighed.

'When I started this business, the plan was Angel did the killing, I send out the invoices and eventually I'd leave to become a famous movie star,' Cordelia said. 'Dumpster diving for week old buffalo wings was definitely not in the job description.'

'Well, try declawing roadkill for three sacred talons.'

'Yeah - it's never frolicking puppies is it? It's always bones and death…' Cordelia twisted around to look at Kali, 'speaking of which, if we're gonna start up with the dark mojo, you might wanna head back upstairs to Connor and Groo, the Groosalug needs to be on the alert that funky stuff is going down.'

Kali sighed deeply, but got to her feet. 'Banished back to room 217,' she whispered to Kate, 'I swear if I have to look at that wallpaper much longer I'm gonna burn it.' Kate smiled sympathetically, and the demon woman made her way back upstairs, slowly.

A moment after she had vanished up the staircase, the front door opened and this time Doyle and Gunn came in. 'well here it is - in the disgustin' flesh,' Doyle said, putting the decapitated head down on the counter and then wiping his hands clean on his trouser leg. 'The skull o' the soul eater. Nasty fella.' He had placed the head down right in front of Cordelia, and she wrinkled her nose and shuffled away from it … which meant that she then bumped, gently, into the side of Doyle. They glanced at each other - awkwardly - apologised and then shuffled apart again.

Wesley was frowning at the head. 'It looks rather fresh,' he commented.

'Yeah we moved up its expiration date,' Gunn snickered.

'Well, according the book, we only need the skull itself,' the watcher told him, showing him the page, 'there's no need for the … parts. Take it to the kitchen, remove all the skin and soft tissue.'

Doyle and Gunn gave each other a horrified and disgusted look, before they picked the head back up and carried it off, grumbling. Cordelia followed them.

* * *

Once the men had successfully removed the soft tissue from the skull - and got rid of the leftovers without vomiting, the team - along with the new hangers on - gathered down in the basement, outside Angelus' cage, to perform the ritual.

They had daubed a magical circle on the floor and placed the skull in the centre; placing the sacraments Fred and Cordy had made around the skull in the circle, and placing white candles around the perimeter.

'Have you lost your minds?' Angelus asked, staring down at them, as they prepared. 'You're going to use black magic to restore my soul? People, this never goes well - am I the only one paying attention, here?'

Lilah was not any more optimistic. 'Ten to one the entire hotel gets sucked into a hell dimension,' she muttered, rolling her eyes. Gunn glanced between the two of them, irritated. 'You two - with the shutting up.' The team all concentrated on setting up the ritual.

'Talk about eleventh hour desperation,' Angelus said, still watching, 'face it, you're grasping. No jar. No soul.'

'Yeah right, bud, we're the ones that sound desperate,' Doyle said as he lit his candle. Wesley took out a vial and began to pour the contents over the skull. But Angelus wasn't giving up. 'Let's be realistic,' he said. 'Even if your precious champion makes another guest appearance, you can't stop the apocalypse. Bottom line is, you're gonna lose. The last thing you smell will be each other's blood.' He began to laugh. 'Look at you,' he said to them, 'heroes - so tangled up in your own crap you can't find the world to save it.'

'Does everyone have their talismans?' Wesley asked, trying to block the voice of the vampire out. It didn't work.

'Hell, even Angel knew you never stood a chance. You want to know why he really let me out? Because he finally gave up. He knew you were all too weak and selfish to stop what's coming. He gave up his soul because he gave up on you.'

Wesley began to chant, in Latin, 'In degera…'

'Don't kid yourselves,' Angelus snarled.

'Fortis murus…' the flames of the candles shot upwards.

'I'll still be around long after your corpses rot.'

'Kesta sartuum…' the building began to shake - and everybody looked around unnerved, but Wesley kept on chanting. 'Mundi ethericon…'

White smoke began to rise from the skull and drift towards Angelus: 'I promise you this isn't…'

'Chimera nihilo,' Wesley finished.

'...The end,' Angelus gasped - as the white smoke surrounded him and then lifted him into the air. The smoke glowed a brighter white and seemed to seep into Angelus - illuminating him - he winced and screamed in pain, struggling midair. The Skull, in the middle of the circle suddenly exploded - and the team raised their arms to their faces to protect against the flying fragments. Doyle instinctively wrapped his arm around Cordelia, shielding her from the worst of the force. And then, behind them, the smoke disappeared and there was the loud thump of a body hitting the floor.

Cordelia jumped to her feet, wriggling out of Doyle's grasp and looking slightly awkward. She was at the bars of the cage in a moment, looking down at the prone vampire. 'Angel?' she asked. He looked up at her. And then round at the rest of them. He began to groan. 'I am so sorry,' he said.

'It worked,' Lorne said - sounding pleased - but surprised. But Doyle furrowed his brow, 'it did? Are we sure? Is it really Angel?'

The vampire didn't answer him, instead he got to his feet and looked at Fred, 'You came down the stairs,' he said to her, 'you had blood and I grabbed you.'

'I'm fine,' she sought to reassure him.

'We need to be sure this really is Angel,' Wesley said. Gunn turned to Lorne, 'read him,' he said - nodding in the direction of the vampire. Wesley took a step forward, scrutinising carefully. 'Angel, are you aware of what has happened?'

'I'm back,' he said, 'there's - uh - there's something else. Something worse than…'

'The Beast,' Wesley nodded. 'And we need your help to fight it. But first you need to sing for Lorne - to prove it's really you.'

'Oh right,' he cleared his throat, '_raindrops keep falling my head do do do do just…'_

Lorne began to smile- his face lighting up in elation. 'Oh yes. Yes! Sweet, fancy B.J Thomas it's him. It's Angel.'

'You're sure?' Gunn asked.

'Yes yes! The aura has totally changed and the vibe screams soul.'

'The we can let him out,' Fred said slowly, 'Angel…' but he cut her off. He had other ideas. 'No,' he said, 'I'm staying in here. I'm doing what's best for the group.'

Cordelia looked confused, 'since when is locking up the leader what's best for the group?'

'Since when does dark magic come with a guarantee?' He asked in reply, 'for all we know this could be temporary and god forbid…' he shook his head but didn't finish the sentence - as if the thought were too terrible to contemplate. 'I can give orders from down here. And the new ones are: no more back biting, fist fighting, fraternising or vengeance. From now on you focus on one thing: making it out alive. 'Cause I'm only going to say this once: What Angelus told you is a lie. I haven't and will never give up on you. We'll get through this thing. Together.'

Lilah snorted in derision, 'I can't believe we didn't crush you people years ago.'

But he carried on, like he hadn't heard her - and began to give out specific instructions from inside the cage. 'Wes, you and Fred go back to Lilah's books. We need any information we can get on this new player. Lilah - go make some coffee - earn your keep around here.' The three of them went back up the stairs, and he turned to Lorne. 'I want you out working low-pro real estate. If this thing is bigger than the Beast it's gonna be laying down roots. And it'll need square footage.'

'Good to have you back boss,' Lorne also left the basement.

'Gunn, Doyle - I want you working damage control. Sweep the surrounding blocks for civilians. Save who you can. Kate, Lindsey - you can help them. Be careful, though, it's a vamp playground out there.' The four of them left, as well - leaving only Cordelia alone with him in the basement. 'Cordelia - ' he started to say.

'No.'

'I didn't say anything.'

'True, but I thought I should tell you upfront that I don't take orders from guys too scared to step out of their cages.'

'I made the right call,' he told her, shaking his head, 'this way everyone stays safe.'

'And you don't have to look anybody in the eye. Talk about convenient.'

He looked down at his feet, shamefaced, 'I hate that you saw me that way,' he muttered. She blew a raspberry, 'I've seen you that way, before,' she said. 'I remembered what it was like - with the pulse pounding horror and fear and evil. But news flash - soul boy - you're not him. I get that - now more than ever.' She reached her arm through the bar and tilted his chin, forcing him to make eye contact - and smiled at him. 'Seeing Angelus back, after all these years,' she said, 'it just showed me - absolutely - how different you are. I believe that more firmly than I have every believed anything. You're not two sides of the same coin, Angel - you're totally different coins … people. And I get that, I do - and so does everybody up there. I look into your eyes - and I know the man that's looking back at me is the man I trust, the man I … the best friend I've ever had. Who I care deeply for and who cares deeply for me. I know I said we needed to go slowly, with us, mitigate the risk … but, now, seeing you back - I'm ready for that risk, Angel. I'm ready to take the next step with you. But you need to take a step first. 'Cause we cannot have a relationship with those bars in the way.'

He nodded, smiling a little, and glanced up the stairs, 'so how do I go up there and…'

'Easy,' Cordelia told him, putting the key in the lock, 'leave him and what you did inside the cage.' She opened the door and he walked out. She took his hand, 'you're not Angelus.'

Angelus vamped out. 'Guess again,' he leered.


	48. Calvary: Part Four

_Part Four_

She felt her heart freeze inside her chest - as she stared up into the face of her worst nightmare. Angelus grinned down at her, ready to bite… and then her warrior training kicked in. Using her patented move, she snapped her leg out with as much force as three years varsity cheerleading and four years demon hunting could muster and kneed the vampire, hard, in the groin. As he doubled over, she punched him in the face - remembering, as she did, that very early training session, which seemed so long ago now, when he had told her to hit him; promising she couldn't hurt him. She had swung her fist - got in a lucky shot - and his nose had swollen up. She could hit twice as hard as that now.

With the two blows hammering down in quick succession, Angelus dropped his hold on her and she ran into the cage, slamming the door shut and holding onto it; hoping to keep herself safe with the bars that had held him. He grabbed hold of the bars trying to force the door open - and Cordelia shrieked, but held it shut tight. So he reached in and grabbed her head, from the back, and then slammed it against the cage. She fell to the floor unconscious. 'Stay down,' Angelus growled. And then he left her there and jogged up the stairs. His vampire face melted away and underneath, he was smiling.

* * *

When he got upstairs it was to find the lobby devoid of people, but he could hear someone in the office. He sniffed. Fred. Perfect. A sincere, soulful smile plastered on his face, he sauntered over to the office door. She was in there alone, tidying up papers on the desk. Sensing someone behind her, she stiffened and turned - gasping, when she saw who it was.

Immediately, he was all sincere apologies, 'I'm sorry if I scared you.'

She shook her head a little, trying to pretend that she wasn't unnerved. 'Angel … I thought…' her body language betrayed her though - so tense. And the smell … the fear was coming off her in waves, he could get drunk off her fear - it was intoxicating. But he reined it in, kept it hidden. Kept up his imitation of soul boy. 'Cordy let me out …' he explained, keeping his voice soft and hesitant, his head hung a little low - not quite making eye contact; like he was a little afraid or ashamed to face her. 'Actually I - I asked her to be let out.' He shook his head, like he regretting even starting this. 'You know what? Never mind.' He turned to go.

'No, wait,' She stopped him, 'I'm the one who's sorry. After everything you've been through I…'

Way to go Fred! He thought, fight that fear - and let the serial killer wearing your friend's face get just that little bit closer. But he kept up his Angel act. He wasn't close enough, yet - and the thrill was always in the chase. In playing the game. In letting the victim ease themselves into feeling safe - only to then dial up the terror and watch that fear spread through them, again; see in their eyes the exact moment they realised their mistake. Watch them make the calculations - could they make it to the door? could they call for help? Was there anything they could have done differently that would have spared them?

'It has been rough,' he said, turning back to her and smiling ruefully.

'On all of us,' she agreed. She was easing, beginning to trust. Time to mess with her head. 'I know that I could use a drink,' he said. And there it was! That flicker of fear. That uncertainty. Her eyes darted to the door beyond him - and then she sought to hide her immediate impulse to run. But her body and her scent couldn't hide that from a predator. It was … delicious. Too delicious to rush. He made his Angel face look hurt. 'Now you see?' his tone was injured, 'that's what I was afraid of.' He looked down, shamefaced; pained by her lack of trust, by the damage done to their relationship. 'For the rest of your life, all you'll see is the evil thing.'

And then there was the guilt - it smelled nearly as good as the fear. Winding her up and then easing the pressure, only to ramp it up again a moment later... he could play this cat and mouse game with her all evening … And by the time he drank her, that rollercoaster of tumultuous emotions would be like the bouquet of a fine wine - adding to the sweetness of the taste of her blood. God he had missed this!

'You're my friend, Angel,' she said to him, 'past is past - and done is done.' Though the heartbeat hammering in her chest, so hard he could hear it, belied the calm of her tone. But he pretended to believe her - pretended that soul boy thought everything was OK. He smiled at her, 'thanks.' She shrugged in response. He took a step closer, 'can I get a hug?'

...

She inhaled sharply, she could hardly say 'no' after declaring Angelus was in the past but … she could still feel his hand wrapped around her throat, still hear the poison he had whispered in her ears, in Charles' ears. He moved towards her. And then there was a loud crash, from out in the lobby - and they both turned to look in the direction the noise had come from. When Fred turned back round, the vampire had vanished from her side.

* * *

Lilah was stood on the steps, looking sheepish. The remains of coffee cups lay smashed at her feet - and a puddle of the hot liquid oozed across the floor. 'It's my inner megalomaniac,' she was explaining to Wesley, 'I, uh, rebel at serving coffee.'

The sound of the crash had brought everyone else out from wherever they had been hiding - and Angelus stared around at Angel's friends. How small they all seemed. How pathetic. He could kill them all without breaking a sweat, right now. But that wasn't enough. That wouldn't hurt. That wouldn't be art. Perfect suffering. That's what he'd do to them. But first, he needed to get out of here, before they realised something was wrong. Wesley already looked surprised to see him. 'Angel, I thought you were confined….'

'Change of plan,' Angelus told him, edging towards the door. 'Cordelia actually talked me out of staying down there.' He was nearly at the door. 'Now I've got my own mission.'

'You need some help with that, bud?' the halfbreed asked him. He made his Angel face as noble and self sacrificing as he could manage. 'Too dangerous,' he said, 'I'm afraid you can't go with me.' He opened the door - and then paused, turning back to look at them - making all that sickening, earnest, profundity, which Angel always carried with him, shine out of his eyes. After the perfect dramatic pause - the melodrama heightened to a climax so tense it was palpable, he looked each of them in the eye. 'I have to save the world,' he pronounced - and then strode out of the door, letting it slam behind him.

...

Fred came out of the office, looking confused as she saw the whole gang gathered there, except… she stopped beside the monitor and looked around at them all. 'So, has anyone seen Cordy?' They all turned to look at her - and, as they did, their eyes scanned across the monitor - and registered the prone form lying in the bottom of the cage.

* * *

Gunn stood at the weapons cabinet and doled out various blades and crossbows. 'He has a head start,' he said, 'but it's chaos out there - and he'll be looking to feed. He won't have got far, not yet. He's on foot - we go in the truck. Doyle…?'

'I'll try my best,' Doyle nodded, his face was set. His heart was still beating a mile a minute from those sickening few moments when he thought Cordelia might be dead. The relief at finding her only unconscious had nearly knocked him from his feet. And much as he hated his demon half - he was willing to do anything to make sure he never had to go through that again. Though he could only hope he would prove up to the task.

'Our only advantage is that Angelus may think we want to capture him,' Wesley told the group, 'but I think we're all agreed that that is no longer an option?'

'Oh god,' Cordelia breathed to herself, looking down. She was sat on the sofa, a bag of ice clutched to her head. At Wesley's words, her eyes blurred with tears.

'It's what we always promised, Cordy,' Doyle told her - though he looked and sounded uncomfortable, and wasn't able to look at her. 'It's what Angel would want us to do. What he made us promise to do.'

'I know,' her voice was barely above a whisper, and she bit her lip to try and stop it from trembling.

'Angelus is on the loose 'cause we brought him into the world. It's our job to take him out.' Gunn told everyone. Wesley nodded in agreement, 'take the shot - any shot you can get.' Fred looked at the crossbow in her hand, 'I don't know if I can…' she started to say.

'You will,' Gunn told her. He turned to Lindsey, 'you coming with us?' he asked. Lindsey nodded. He turned to Kate, 'you comin'?'

'I'll stay here with Cordy,' Kate said, 'she's injured,' she took out her gun, 'and I'm armed, if he comes for us.'

'Not the only one packing heat,' Lilah cocked her own gun.

Gunn nodded, 'right OK- everyone else, let's go. Doyle…' Doyle nodded, again - and morphed into his demon spikes, hoping his extra senses would enable him to track Angelus' scent.

* * *

Angelus roamed the streets. You had to appreciate the eternal darkness but … the mayhem was another level. Fires burned everywhere - from overturned trash-cans to crashed cars - licking down the tarmac, making it buckle in the heat. Abandoned trucks blocked the road and everywhere he turned there were people fighting; screaming. And the ones that weren't yelling were dead - littering the streets with their corpses. There could be no hunt here. No careful stalking of prey. No finesse or artistry to the kill.

'Like shooting fish in a barrel,' he shook his head, 'where's the fun in that?'

A little girl came running out of a burning building, screaming in terror - and, delighted, he picked her up ready to bite … only to see the fangs, the yellow eyes and the brow ridges. This child was already a demon. 'What happened to pedestrians?' he yelled in her face, 'human pedestrians?' He dropped the girl back to the floor and stalked off. 'Is there no fast food left in L.A?'

* * *

The three women sat in the lobby, Cordelia still clutched the ice pack to her sore head. 'He let me think I was talking him into it,' she said to the others, 'how could I be so stupid? This is all my fault.'

'Those evil geniuses…' Lilah replied, not sounding sympathetic, 'they'll get you every time.'

Kate frowned at her, and patted Cordelia comfortingly, 'you have to remember that Angelus is a master of manipulation, Cordelia,' she told the distraught woman, 'he will have used everything Angel knows about you to play you... He has that advantage - he knows you, where you don't know him.'

'I know him only too well,' Cordelia said, 'which is why I can't forgive myself. I know exactly what Angelus is. I've been preparing for the day Angel would turn since I started working for him and then the moment he does … he tricks me. And now the guys will kill him and … I don't … I can't…' her eyes blurred with tears again and she stopped talking. Lilah tutted impatiently.

'You have to remember Angel wants them to do this,' Kate told her.

'Yeah - the enormous boy scout has enough on his guilty conscience without a few more massacres to his name,' Lilah said, 'it's easier on him if you just let the poor sap die… and better for the world of course.'

'But how can it be better for the world to get rid of any chance of bringing back Angel?' Cordelia asked - her eyes shone luminous with tears, as she stared at both the other women. 'The Beast has blocked out the sun, made in rain fire … and now it turns out there's something worse out there - and we can't stop it yet because we need to kill Angel and we won't be able to stop it afterwards because we've killed Angel! It's just … everything just seems so …'

'Pointless?' Angelus' voice cut through the conversation, floating down from the landing above. They all twisted to stare - and saw him standing by the balustrade leering down at them. 'I guess everything would seem pointless…'

As he was speaking, Cordelia whispered into Kate's ear: 'go warn Kali and Groo - they have to protect Connor.'

'...if I were about to die,' Angelus finished up. He leapt the rail and jumped down to the lobby. As he was still in the air, Kate got to her feet and ran for the other staircase - aiming to find the two demons protecting Angel's child. Lilah whipped out her gun and started firing bullets into the falling vampire. But if she was successful in hitting him, it made no difference to him. He landed and moved towards them - not slowed down by any bullets.

When all the chambers were empty - and the bullets spent - Lilah threw her gun to the ground and began to back away. Cordelia grabbed the crossbow, which had been resting beside her, and fired it straight at Angelus. Her aim was true - it would be a direct hit to the heart… but he snatched the bolt from the air, an inch from his chest. He looked at it grinned, 'nice shot, Cordy,' and then he threw it back at her as hard as he could. It lodged itself in her thigh and she squealed in pain and fell from the sofa. 'This time - stay down,' he barked at her. Then he advanced on Lilah.

'As for you, you luscious thing, I mean - you were gonna let me out of the cage, so I'll give you, what, a ten second start. Ten, nine…' but before he had finished saying his second number, Lilah had already turned and fled off through the hotel. Angelus chuckled. 'Now there's a girl who takes advantage of her opportunities,' he said, admiringly.

Unnoticed, Cordelia grabbed her crossbow again and fired off another bolt. Again - her aim was true - she knew what she was doing, what she had to do, that she had to get it right. Her hand didn't tremble and she made her heart beat less frantic in her chest, made the screaming voices in her head silence themselves, as she took the shot to destroy the man she had been trying to build a future with. Once she pulled the trigger, she shut her eyes - saying goodbye to her best friend, the man she…

He heard it coming - and whipped round. He stuck his hand out and it impaled him through his palm instead of his chest. Cordelia opened her eyes again to see him still standing there - looking at the bolt sticking from his hand. 'You know, I think you're getting a bit too good with that thing,' he said. He ripped the bolt from his palm - yelling with the pain - and then, again, threw it at Cordelia. This one dug into her side - and she screamed. 'Every time you hurt me, I'm gonna hurt you back just a little bit more, lover,' he told her. She stared up at him, gasping in pain. 'Now - you mustn't get jealous kitten,' he said to her, 'I'm gonna warm myself up on Lilah - but I'm gonna leave all the best stuff for you. Eight, seven…' he turned and stalked off - tracking Lilah's terrified scent.

* * *

The search party moved through the streets - Doyle, in demon face, inhaled deeply - and came to stop, frowning. 'I don't get it,' he said.

'Don't get what?' Wesley asked.

'This is the end of the trail. I can't … I can't track him any further than this - he hasn't moved on, but he's not here.' He glanced around - as if expecting to see the vampire looming out of the shadows at them - but the shadows remained vampire free.

'Angelus needs to feed,' Lindsey said, 'and this isn't a highly populated area. Where'd he go?'

'Maybe he got a ride?' Gunn suggested.

'There's no way through by car,' Doyle pointed to the truck blocking the end of the road. 'He might've gone up…' he looked up towards the roofs - the favourite haunt of Angelus' alter ego, 'but there's nothin' for him up there. He likes pain - damage. He wants to be up close and personal when he sees the hurt he causes. And he's been locked up for years - he wants to cause maximum damage to make up for lost time. Maximum pain.'

'But with Angelus…' Wesley said slowly, 'maximum damage does not necessarily mean high body count. It's the trauma of the kill - not the quantity. Angelus wants to break hearts with his every kill, and out here …' he looked around at the mayhem.

But a look of horrified realisation had spread across Fred's face. Damage. Pain. Hurt. And who did Angelus' want to hurt? This was the end of the trail - he hadn't gone onward so …'he doubled back,' she told them. They stared at each other - and then turned and ran for the truck.

* * *

Gasping in pain - Cordelia struggled back to her feet. Angelus was chasing Lilah, Kate had hopefully got to Kali and Groo - Groo would protect them. She needed to find Lilah and get her upstairs to the undefeated champion. She cried out, as she tried to move and both bolts skewered her further. She couldn't run around the hotel with them sticking out of her, like this. But she didn't have time to take them out and patch herself up. And if she just pulled them out, without bandaging the wounds, then she would lose too much blood. And it would be akin to slicing her palm open and then going for a swim in shark infested waters: the smell would bring Angelus right to her.

There was only one thing for it. She took a deep breath and then snapped off the end of the crossbow bolt, which was sticking out from her side. Then she did the same for the one in her thigh. The broken fragment was still in the wound - painful, but keeping on the pressure. But she now had more freedom to move. She limped off, clutching one of the snapped off bolts in her hand, as a makeshift stake - ready to find Lilah - and kill Angelus, if she had to.

* * *

Angelus wandered the halls of the hotel, slowly, following the waves of fear that Lilah left behind as she ran. It was a heady, robust fragrance … like a full bodied Merlot. 'Lilah,' he called out in a sing songy voice, 'oh Lilah…' she was close by. He smiled.

...

Lilah ran down the corridor. She was in an old, abandoned part of the hotel - a part the team didn't use - seemed like it had just been left exactly as it was the day the Hyperion Hotel closed its doors for good. She had a battle axe in her hand. She had found it in one of the rooms, nearer the lobby - the half breed's old room if the laundry was anything to judge by. But - whatever she personally thought of the ridiculous little Mick - she had to admit he kept a handy fighting axe in his closet. And, if he came near her, she was gonna swing it at that vampire son of a bitch's neck and watch him crumble to dust.

He was up ahead of her. She could hear him whistling. She waited - holding her breath, willing her heart to beat more slowly - forcing her vital signs of life to calm down, to not give her away. When she couldn't hear him anymore - she dared to venture a few more steps forward.

'Boo!' he jumped out from the woodwork. She screamed and he knocked her to the ground. He looked down at her, shaking his head, sadly. 'Lilah, I had such high hopes for us. Your devious mind, my killer instincts. What a team we could have made.'

She clutched the battle axe, tightly, but smiled up at him - never one to miss an opportunity. 'Still could,' she told him.

'You always were a closer,' he said to her, 'but with this big new scary in town - you're not looking so tough, anymore. And I'm a winning team kinda guy. Add that to the recent people shortage and…' he chuckled, 'you're lucky I'm letting you yak this long.' He leaned down towards her - ready to bite.

She brought her legs up and kicked him- double footed - square in the chest - the momentum forcing him over her head. He crashed down into the stairwell behind her, tumbling down the stairs. She scrambled to her feet - grabbed a room service cart which stood abandoned in the hallway, and flung it down the stairs on top of him. She didn't stay to watch - but she heard the crash and the yell, as she ran off in the opposite direction.

...

She struggled down the hallway, the wound The Beast had inflicted upon her was hurting - and she could feel the blood seeping through the bandages Cordelia had put on it. But she kept going. There was no other choice. Lilah Morgan did not give up so easily.

A hand shot out and caught her - as she ran past a doorway. She yelped a bit, as she was pulled inside - but then relaxed when she saw it was only Cordelia. The other woman held a bloody, broken crossbow shaft in her hand - like it was a deadly weapon.

'He's gonna kill us,' Lilah breathed. Cordelia shook her head. 'No - he's not,' and - weapon raised - she led Lilah out of the room and headed for the staircase - headed for the top floor, and the Groosalug - and safety.

* * *

Kate rapped on the door of room 217. She wanted to bang harder - no one was answering - but she didn't dare. She couldn't risk Angelus hearing. 'Kali,' she hissed, 'Kali - it's Kate - open up.'

Eventually - after what seemed like hours of knocking - the door opened and Kali stood there, looking surprised. 'Kate! What's going on?'

'We need to get inside,' Kate started to push through the door, 'it's Angelus - the spell didn't work and he's free, he's going to kill us all.'

'Oh.' Kali blocked her from entering the room - Kate looked perplexed and then annoyed. 'Didn't you hear what I said?'

'I did,' the demon woman smiled. Then she grabbed Kate by the throat with her left hand - Kate looked shocked and gripped at her hand, trying to pry her off. 'I figured this would happen,' Kali said - and then used her right hand to plunge the stone knife The Beast had given her into Kate's neck. She stabbed again - creating twin neck wounds - and then dropped the body of the cop to the floor. Kate lay still. Kali pocketed the knife and then hurried off to the stairs - and made her way back to the room The Groosalug and Connor were actually staying in. Task accomplished.

* * *

**A/N umm - sorry to both the mini muse and garfieldodie who both left 'yay Kate' messages after part one ... those comments have not aged well. If it's any consolation, there is some super cute Doyle and Cordy stuff coming up in the next episode, which is 'Salvage' - and, oh yeah, Faith! **


	49. Salvage: Part One

**Salvage**

_Part One_

Angelus trod his way down the carpeted halls, following the iron tang which laced through the air; calling out to him. He found Kate's body lying dead on the floor. 'Huh. Well.' He shook his head, sadly, 'this is no fun.'

...

The team rounded the corner - searching the corridors for signs of Angelus, or the women. They stopped dead when they saw him. He held Kate in his arms and was biting down into her neck, tearing at her flesh and drinking noisily. He looked up, when he sensed them - her blood trickled down his chin - 'oh geez, fellas, this isn't what it looks like,' he chuckled. Gunn threw his axe at him - but it missed. Lindsey was rooted to the spot - frozen. Angelus held the body of the dead cop out to him, 'want some?' he offered. And Lindsey unfroze and rushed towards the vampire. 'Katie!' he cried. Angelus threw Kate at him and then turned and ran the length of the hall - jumping out of the window at the end.

Lindsey had caught Kate and had collapsed to the floor with her. He held her cradled in his arms, 'Katie! Katie!' He pushed the hair back from her face, kissed her, shook her - screamed her name. But she was limp, and the blood from her neck wound pooled on the floor beneath them. She did not respond. 'Katie, please!'

The rest of the team stared down at the pair of them; the dead woman and her grief stricken boyfriend; still cradling her, refusing to let her go, calling her name. They felt that leaden feeling of dread and guilt - the sickness in the pit of their stomachs, as they saw Lindsey's bereavement and knew Angelus had now crossed a line from which Angel could not return. And Kate was dead. And nothing would bring her back.

As he watched Lindsey press his face against Kate's still, unresponding one - and saw the way his shoulders shook with the sobs… a sudden thought hit Doyle - and he turned and ran back down the corridor. When he had put a bit of distance between himself and Lindsey's grief he stopped - took a deep breath - and then yelled for Cordelia. She didn't answer - and he ran up the next staircase, yelling her name. His heart pounded in his chest - like it was about to explode and, every corner he turned, he felt terror like he had never known before - at the thought he might be about to find her dead body lying, abandoned and fed on, in the hallway. But each corridor was as empty as the last - and he ran on, calling more and more desperately.

He reached the very top of the hotel - the penthouse suites where Angel kept his rooms. He arrived sweaty and out of breath but he forced himself on, his legs trembling beneath him, and called out for her again. 'Cordy, Cordelia? Where are you?'

A door opened at the end of the hall - Angel's door - and Lilah stepped out. 'Geez Doyle, quit squawking … she's in here.'

'She's … is she…?' He ran the last few steps and pushed his way into the room, past Lilah - and found Cordelia lying on the sofa. Her eyes were open, she was propped up on the cushions. Kali was sat beside her. Connor was playing on his mat, on the floor - oblivious to all the mayhem going on around him. 'You're alive,' he panted, coming to a stop and having to brace himself against the wall, as the flood of relief left him feeling overpoweringly weak and unsteady. Then he noticed the blood - and that Kali had the first aid kit out. 'You're hurt,' he said. He stumbled towards her, practically shoving the demon woman out of the way so he could take a better look.

'I'm fine,' Cordelia said to him, her voice was croaky. 'Doyle, I'm fine, I just…'

'She's lost a lot of blood,' Kali told him, handing him the bandages and wipes so he could tend to Cordelia's wounds himself.

'Angelus was here,' Cordelia said, watching the way Doyle's hands trembled, as he rubbed ointment onto her torn skin. 'I tried to shoot him with the crossbow - twice - he … he threw the bolts right back at me. Hence the bleeding. He's a better shot than I am.'

'But, truly, your Majesty cannot think I would ever let any harm come to his chosen first consort?' The Groosalug said, his eyes were dark - worried that his king did not have faith in him.

'Why were you so scared?' Cordelia asked. He swallowed - and looked around at them. 'He killed Kate,' he told them. 'We found him - feeding on her. Kate's dead.'

'Oh god,' Kali breathed - and moved away to the window. She kept her back turned to the rest of the group … and they didn't notice the satisfied smile that played across her face.

'Do you need anything?' Doyle asked Cordy, once he'd finished bandaging up her midriff and pressed painkillers on her.

'Rest,' she said. 'No offence to anyone - but it's super crowded in here. I could… I could do with my own place to sleep it off.' He nodded - and then swept her up into his arms. 'I'll take you to my old room,' he said. 'Lilah - go to the others - see if they need any help. Kali, Groo - stay and protect Connor, in case Angelus comes back.' Then he carried Cordelia down the stairs and lay her down, gently, on their old bed.

* * *

Gunn and Wesley glanced at each other, uneasily. Lindsey had still not let go of Kate - he was drenched in her blood now, but he still kept cradling her limp and lifeless form in his arms. 'Lindsey,' Wesley said - keeping his voice soft, 'we need to move her. She can't stay here - we need to get her some place… more appropriate.' But Lindsey didn't move - didn't look up. He just clung to the dead body of his girlfriend - and cried.

Wesley glanced over at Fred … she took the hint and went to crouch beside the grieving man, 'Lindsey,' she placed her arm on his shoulder, 'come on - you need to get away from here - we can take care of Kate.' But he shrugged her arm away and ignored her. She got back to her feet and shrugged at Wesley. It was hopeless.

Silence settled on the hallway - apart from the muffled sobs. The atmosphere was tense - the team wanting to leave, wanting to give Lindsey privacy in grief - but not wanting to leave him alone in the hallway. They needed to move Kate, mark her passing - and then get back out there and stop Angelus; otherwise there would be a whole load more bodies and whole load more grieving partners. But Lindsey was not ready to move - not ready to move Kate from the place she had last been alive; not ready to make her officially dead - a body to be disposed of. So the team waited - awkward and unsure of what to do.

After a long time, the sobs eased up a little - though there was still gasps and wheezes and then - eventually - Lindsey raised his head and looked at the team. His face was tear stained and crumpled. 'What if Angelus - what if that son of a bitch turned her?' he asked them.

Wes and Gunn glanced at each other. 'There wasn't time,' Gunn was quick to assure him, 'we found him before he could have…'

But Lindsey shook his head. 'She was.. She was already … she was…' he choked on a sob, 'she was already cold when I got to her. Cooling down. He hadn't just killed her when we got here. What if… what if he made her feed - and then went back to drinking her?'

'Lindsey…' Wesley's voice was unsure, hesitant, 'I'm not sure it works like that … the process of siring a new vampire…'

'She might rise again,' Lindsey interrupted him, 'she'd hate that. She protected people from vampires. I've got to protect her from that. I can't let it happen. Not to her. Not to my Katie.'

Wesley looked even more uncomfortable. 'Well, I suppose - if you wish it - I could take Kate down to the basement and - uhm - well… I can prevent her from rising if… if I … _remove_ her head. If that's what …'

But Lindsey held Kate even closer, protectively - and began to cry again. 'No. Not that. You can't … not her … not her head.' He went back to cradling his girlfriend, looking down into her still face.

'There might be another way,' Lorne said, softly. The others looked at him. 'In Pylea we had this ritual - called the shiv-roth…'

'The vigil of the bereaved,' Fred translated for the others. Lorne nodded. 'We could take Kate away from this hallway - ' he glanced around, 'set her up somewhere peaceful. Fred and I can gather the necessary doohdads … and Lindsey can keep his watch, staying with Katie whilst her soul departs this life.' He softened his voice, even further, as he spoke to Lindsey, 'if she's been turned she'll rise in the next 24 hours. You can stay with her - make sure she stays at peace. If she wasn't forced to feed then, in a day's time, you'll know she's at rest - and we can start the … well, the formalities. And if she was made to feed - you stay by her side the whole time, and the moment your Katie looks less than at peace ...well, you can have a stake beside you the whole time … in case.'

Lindsey was still for a moment - and then he nodded. 'OK,' he said, 'we can move her.' He picked her up, holding her like she was his new bride. 'Where can I take her?'

'Cordelia's old room,' Fred suggested, 'it's still set up like … like a place someone might stay.'

* * *

Doyle - in his own room with Cordelia, heard the sounds of the others next door. He glanced at the injured woman. 'I'll go see what's happening,' he said to her, 'holler if you need anythin' - I'll be right back.'

...

When he got next door, he found them laying Kate out on the bed. But for the wound on her neck and the pallor of her skin, she could be sleeping. The curtains were drawn and the room was in darkness. Lorne and Fred had collected candles and were placing them around the room, lighting them. They had sent Wes and Gunn to go make sandwiches and flasks of coffee to keep Lindsey sustained through his vigil. Lilah stood in the doorway, looking awkward - and she was joined by Doyle.

Lindsey was sat in a chair next to the bed, holding Kate's hand. His shoulders were hunched and they were shaking. He was still crying. Doyle could barely bear to look at him - at his grief - at Kate lying so still and pale. That could have been Cordelia. Lindsey could have been him. And he did not know how he could have survived such aching loss.

All the candles were now lit - and Lorne struck a match and applied the flames to the end of some incense sticks. He blew out the flame - leaving the embers glowing, and placed the sticks in a bowl on the windowsill. Immediately, their heavy perfume began to snake through the air of the room; cloying and sweet - but somehow soothing. 'We don't have root of saffagrass in this dimension,' Fred explained to the others, 'its scent is said to soothe a broken heart … we had to improvise.'

The men returned and placed the food within easy reach of Lindsey. He barely glanced at them - keeping his eyes on Kate's face. The room went still. Lorne began to sing. '_There's a light at the end of the darkness, and it shines for all the world to see. It will shine on your heart if you just let it…'_

Fred's eyes welled up with tears, and she struggled to keep her bottom lip from trembling. This was Lindsey's grief… not her's. When the song had finished, Lorne patted Lindsey on the shoulder. 'Sleep well, Cara Mia,' he said to Kate, 'I hope you get to the light.' He left the room. Lilah looked across at Lindsey - made eye contact for a brief moment, nodded her head at him - and followed.

'I'm sorry, Kate,' Fred said, 'I wish … rest easy.' She gave Lindsey's shoulder a squeeze - and then, as if after having second thoughts, swooped down and kissed him on the cheek - before following the others from the room.

'Good bye Detective Lockley.'

'Bye Kate.'

Wesley and Gunn both muttered in their turn, patted Lindsey on the back and left him to his vigil. Doyle was the last one left, now. He shuffled into the room, so he was stood right by the bedside and picked up Kate's other hand. 'Y'know… I never really thanked y'... for everythin' you did, gettin' me outta jail that time. I really owe you Kate. You made a big difference. And not just to me - you kept a lot of people safe, workin' on the force - workin' all the supernatural cases, when I know y' didn't want to. Y' never wanted any o' this. You were a hero, Detective Lockley - and the world is sorrier place without y'...' he dropped her hand and looked uncomfortable at having just said so much. Looking down at his feet, he mumbled the old Irish blessing: 'may your soul be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead,' he said to her. Then, like Lilah, he nodded at Lindsey - and left the bereaved man to keep his vigil alone.

...

He returned to Cordelia - wishing he could hold her close, and make the most of it not being her lying still in the darkened, candle lit room. But he couldn't. He had buggered everything up - pushed her away and destroyed their love - so now he had to be relieved and thankful from a respectful distance.

* * *

'So… what do we do now?' Lorne asked. He was down in the lobby with Lilah, Fred, Wes and Gunn. They were mostly sat around in glum, disbelieving silence - except for Wesley who was combing through one of the books.

'I say we get out there and kill him,' Lilah said, 'before he has a chance to come back and do for the rest of us.'

'No,' Wesley said, shortly, without even looking up from his book. She arched an eyebrow at him, 'no?'

'That's the sort of reckless thinking that allowed him to double back.' He looked up at her - and then across at Fred. 'from now on we all stay close.'

Lilah smirked, 'I bet that's the plan.' Fred looked uncomfortable. Gunn glowered. But Wesley ignored her. 'We can't afford to split up. We're not leaving more vulnerable members of the family here whilst the rest of us go out … not again, not until we have something better on our side.'

But Lilah only snorted, 'not all members of the family,' she pointed out.

'But you're still here,' he snapped back at her, 'that means we look out for you… and you act as part of the team.'

'Well, gee - look at me, throwing in with the good guys - makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.'

'OK,' Fred interrupted their quarrel, she didn't want to hear them trade barbs with each other - and know exactly what was going on, underneath it all. 'So - if we're not goin' out after Angel...us … what are we gonna do? Board up the doors? Windows? We can't just sit tight and wait for him to drop by. We have to make it safe somehow,' she looked around at the others, 'don't you think?'

'Won't make no difference,' Gunn said, shaking his head, 'if Angelus wants in, he'll find a way.' They all looked defeated - until an excited expression spread across Lorne's face. 'A birth of a notion!' he said to them, his tone equally upbeat, 'we use the sanctuary spell. That anti-demon violence charm I used down at Caritas. It won't stop Angelus from making a housecall, but it should keep carnage down to a minimum,'

'That takes some doing, doesn't it?' Gunn asked.

'Well, I can make a phone call to the furies - see if they can tech support me through a quickie version.'

'Right - magic again,' Lilah's voice was sarcastic, 'because that worked so well when you tried to reensoul Angelus… oh no wait - it didn't. You people rely on magic too much.'

'We use whatever tools we have,' Wesley corrected. 'And Wolfram and Hart are not exactly unknown for dabbling in the occult when it suits them.'

'But we have the best practitioners and shamans on hand to do it.'

'And yet still, somehow, Angel always manages to beat you.'

'OK!' Fred interrupted the quarrel again. 'It's an idea - a good idea. Lorne make the phone call… Wes… why didn't that spell work?'

'I've been rather wondering that, myself,' he told her. He held up the book he had been looking through, 'which is why I returned to grimoire that contained the text.'

'And?' Gunn asked.

'It's not in there.'

'What?'

Wesley laid the book down so everyone could see it - they gathered round. 'This is the page the spell was on, I studied it extensively, read from it, used it to direct Fred, Cordelia and Lorne in making the sacraments - used it to discover the whereabouts of the soul eater for Gunn and Doyle, and as they can attest - that soul eater was there, he was real.'

'Damn straight.'

'So I can attest to the fact that _this_ is the page that contained the spell. But, as you can see… there is no sign of it. The text is - it's completely different.'

'A spell for teaching your hibiscus plant Chinese,' Fred read, frowning. 'I guess there's a spell for everything.'

'Apart from one to reensoul a vampire, without an orb of Thesulah, whilst his soul is otherwise contained in a jar,' Wesley corrected. 'I checked every page in the book - just in case. There is no such spell in here.'

'And this is definitely the same book?' Gunn asked. Wesley nodded. 'So - uh - what does this mean?' Lorne asked, looking confused.

Wesley sighed, 'It means that the spell was planted in this book. By whoever also removed every trace of The Beast from all the books in this dimension. It means we were tricked into thinking Angel was back - just so we would let Angelus out. It means we can't trust anything we read anymore, because The Beast's boss - whoever he is - has the power to alter texts to say anything they want it to… or to hide vital information.'

'So that would be … putting us several squares back from square one?' Lorne checked.

'I'm afraid so.'

'So how come Lorne got so fooled?' Gunn asked, 'seems to me it shouldn't matter what it says in the book, if we got our own empath here to read the truth of it. But now that's gone all screwy.'

Lorne looked down, his hands stuffed in his pockets. 'I don't know what to tell you,' he admitted, 'his aura was different. He had a soul - I could see it. I've never got is so wrong before.'

'What a time to start crapping out,' Lilah said. Fred got to her feet and glowered at her, 'Hey!' she snapped. 'This isn't Lorne's fault. It isn't anybody's fault. But we're on own, here, and we need to find a way to work this. Lorne,' she turned to the empath demon, 'go make that phone call to the furies.'

* * *

'What was happening?' Cordelia asked, when Doyle reappeared in her room. 'Oh - they … they just moved Kate next door. Lindsey's with her.'

'I can't believe this,' Cordelia shook her head. 'Kate! We've known her since … since the very beginning.'

'The burrower demon, in the nightclub,' Doyle nodded, remembering. He had been thinking of those early days, reliving them whilst he went on patrol, for so long now - that it seemed strange to talk about them with someone else - with Cordelia of all people.

'She was a good cop,' Cordy said sadly, 'and a good friend to us - especially a couple of years ago … with the court case.'

'Yeah - her and Lindsey really came through for me.' He sat down on the edge of the bed - staying at the bottom end so Cordy didn't think he was crowding her. He hung his head, as he thought all the trouble the crime fighting couple had gone through for him. 'I hate that it's ended this way,' he said.

'God - Lindsey - how is…?'

'Devastated. Heart broken. An empty shell of a man … it's hard, to see him. It's, like, you can feel the grief comin' off of him. But that's not what I'm worried about.'

'What are you worrying about?' she asked.

'What comes next. The next stage. The anger.'

She wrinkled her brow in consternation. 'How do you mean?' Doyle sighed, deeply - and thought about how best to explain it. 'Right now, the grief is raw,' he told her. '- The bereavement - it's like he's hollow inside, the loss has hollowed him out and all there is is this great achin' space where Kate should be. And he's holdin' her hand and talkin' to her and just tryin' to get through from second to second. But when that gets too hard - when the loss gets overpowerin' and he can't bear to look at it anymore, to feel it, then his emotions are gonna change. They're gonna twist, to protect him from the hurt.'

'He's going to get angry, so he doesn't have to feel the grief anymore.'

Doyle inhaled - and then nodded. 'Exactly. And it's gonna be big. Pure rage - fuelled by a desperate need to not look back and see the grief waitin' for him. He's gonna want revenge.'

'You think he's gonna go after Angelus?'

'I'm worried he's gonna die tryin'. And I'm worried that - right now - he knows he's gonna die tryin' - and he doesn't care. He's gonna do it, anyway.'

'You can't know for sure,' Cordelia tried to point out, 'grief is … personal. People react in different ways. There's no one path when it comes to dealing with loss. Even loss this big.'

But Doyle shrugged. 'I know for sure,' he told her.

'How?' she looked sceptical.

'Because - I saw her body and I didn't know if you were dead or alive in this hotel, Cordelia. And I ran through the corridors lookin' for y' and,' his eyes began to shine with tears and his voice was barely above a whisper, '_I have never been so scared in my life._ Of what I might find. Of what I would do if…' he cut himself off and shook his head.

'Doyle...' she started to say.

'If it was you in there,' he pointed in the direction of Kate's room, 'if it was me in Lindsey's place… I can't even start to think about how much that would hurt, Cordy. I can't bring myself to imagine what the pain of losin' y' would be like.' He quickly corrected himself, 'I mean, really losin' y'. More than I've already lost y'... I'd do anythin' to make that feelin' go away - even for a moment. And I'd want to kill the bastard that took you from me. I'd want him to suffer - like I was. And I'd take any risk. And it wouldn't matter who it was or what might happen to me, when I did it. Jail - or death - wouldn't matter at all. 'Cause there would be nothin' left in the world that I wanted, if you weren't in it anymore.'

He looked away from her. 'I mean, I know I don't have the right to feel that way, anymore,' he said hurriedly. 'But it's still how I would feel. And it's what Lindsey's feelin' now - or he will be, when he gets there.'

'Doyle,' she said again - her voice was soft. But he shook his head, again - and got back to his feet; trying to create some space between them, after his outburst. He shuffled his feet awkwardly. 'Well - I - uh - I should let you get some rest,' he said. He forced a smile. 'Is there anythin' I can get y'...?'

'Actually…' she smiled - a wheedling, cajoling smile. 'I think I might be stuck her for a while - laid up,' she said to him. 'Could you maybe - run back to my place and bring me a few things? A change of clothes, my toothbrush…'

He nodded, 'sure thing, Cordy - I'll be right back.' He headed for the door. 'Doyle!' she called after him, he turned back. 'Could you bring me my heat pad to put on my wounds? Dennis will get it. And my sea salts … so I can soak in the tub.'

He gave her a real smile then, 'sure. I'll tell Dennis what's happened, as well, he'll be worried…' He stopped and stared down at her, lying on the bed. 'What?' she asked, smiling curiously. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, 'I was just thinkin' …' he replied. 'I think I prefer it when it's me that's injured - and you doin' the carin'. It's too painful this way round.'

She chuckled, ruefully. 'That's funny,' she said, 'I was just, this minute, thinking that it was nice to be the one that gets to rest in bed and have somebody else take care of _me_ for a change.'

They both smiled, genuinely, then - looking into each other's eyes. Then, Doyle cleared his throat to break the spell, 'uh - y' sure you'll be OK, when I'm gone?' he asked.

'I'll be fine,' she assured him. 'Angelus isn't getting another crack at me.'

'You want a weapon - before I go?'

She beamed at him, 'a weapon would be great.' He crossed to his old closet and selected a fighting axe - left over from when he had lived there. He placed it down beside her on the bed, her hand curled around the handle, gripping it tightly. He paused for a moment - and then leaned forward and kissed her, lightly, on the forehead. 'Get some rest,' he said to her, before leaving her alone.

* * *

As he crossed the lobby, heading for the door, Wesley called out to him. 'Where are you going?' the watcher asked. He doubled back to go and talk to the group. 'Cordy's asked me to get her some of her stuff from home… I won't be long.'

'Alright,' Wesley nodded his agreement, 'take the Plymouth - It's dangerous out there, the quicker you can get across town, the better. And, when you get back, there's a job I'd like you to do for me.'

Doyle looked surprised. 'OK,' he agreed.

* * *

Kali sat on the sofa, drumming the tips of her fingers on the armrest, nervously. The Groosalug looked up from where he was playing with Connor's dinosaurs, on the floor. 'You seem distressed, noble lady,' he said to her, 'you know you have nothing to fear, as long as you within striking distance of the blade of the Groosalug.'

She stopped her drumming and forced a smile, 'oh, I know I'm safe with you,' she said - her voice soft and sweet. 'I'm just worried about the others.'

'You think Angelus will return and finish what he started?'

'That's not what worries me,' she said. He looked confused. She got off the sofa and sat down beside him. She reached out and stroked the tendril of long hair that framed his handsome face. He smiled shyly at the intimacy. 'I know you are brave and strong enough to defeat Angelus,' she said, 'if that's what it takes. I know we have nothing to fear, as long as you're around. But the others…' she sighed, and let her hand drop. 'They make such bad decisions. Such poor judgements. Bringing forth Angelus - letting him out of the cage. They don't know what they're doing and will try anything in an attempt to destroy this evil. Even create more evil. I'm worried what they'll do next. I …' she looked down and bit her lip, 'I don't trust them.'

'His Majesty is a fine and worthy King. He always knows what to do for the best,' the Groosalug pronounced, confidently. But Kali shook her head. 'Maybe in your world,' she said, 'but in this one… he isn't the leader of the band - never mind the king. He has no power - and no better idea than the rest of them what to do. He will follow whatever they all decide. He will do whatever he thinks has the best chance of keeping Cordelia safe.' Her voice became a saddened whisper, 'he doesn't care about the consequences to the rest of us.'

'That cannot be so, noble lady. He was a wise King.'

'So … why did he leave your land? And let it fall into ruin and despair and bloodshed? He did what was best for him and Cordelia - and he didn't care how many of your people had to die to achieve that. And now he will do the same here.'

The Groposalug looked troubled. 'He could not have known what would happen. I made many mistakes he could not forsee.'

'He didn't _care_ what would happen,' Kali breathed. 'He cares for nothing but Cordelia. To hell with the rest of us. He will make any stupid decision to try and protect her - sacrifice whoever it takes. Me, you,' she glanced down at the baby, 'Connor. And the rest are no better. They're blind and frightened and that makes them dangerous.'

'Then what do you suggest, my lady?'

She got to her feet. 'I'm going to go downstairs - see what they're up to. But I'm not going to let them know I'm watching.'

'You will spy.'

'If you want to put it that way … they mustn't know I left here, OK? If anyone asks - I doubt they will - but if anyone asks, tell them I'm resting, next door.'

'I understand, noble lady - it will be our secret.'

She smiled at him, 'good boy.'

* * *

Doyle had arrived back at Cordelia's place and given a very anxious Phantom Dennis the lowdown on what had been happening. Dennis had found Cordy's heat pack - in the cupboard above the microwave - and Doyle had put it into a holdall along with a few changes of comfy clothes, some pajamas and some underwear. He headed into the bathroom and took down her washbag, grabbed her toothbrush and popped it inside and put it in the holdall. Then he grabbed the seasalts and her loofah.

Back in her bedroom, he was going through the things on her night stand - trying to decide what was necessary; what his Cordelia would deem necessary. He dropped creams, sprays, lotions and her hairbrush into the bag. Then he heard a noise behind him and tensed. He looked up into the mirror above the nightstand - but there was nothing there but his own, pale reflection. 'Dennis?' he called, 'that you?'

'Do you remember how Cordelia completely invited me over before she even had a place?' a voice asked behind him. He turned. Angelus grinned at him, 'but then that's our Cordy for you, she's a giver.'

* * *

Lorne spoke into the phone, as Fred and Gunn - their arms laden with every spice they could find in the kitchen - crossed the lobby and dumped the jars on the counter for the demon to look at. 'OK - uhuh, yeah - not so fast, one at a time girls,' Lorne said, he pulled a notepad towards himself and started to scribble down their instructions, 'violence restrained … uhuh…' He glanced down at the spices placed in front of him, and then held the receiver to his chest so he could speak to Fred and Gunn. 'They say we need bloodroot.'

'We just raided the spice rack in the kitchen, there aint no bloodroot there,' Gunn told him. Lorne put the phone back to his ear, '86 on the bloodroot ladies, anything else we can…? Uhuh … we have…' he picked up the jars one by one and began to read out the labels, 'paprika, ginger, all spice, clove… cloves? Got it. Beautiful. Hey, as soon as FTD's delivering in the city again expect a big 'thanks a bunch' bouquet from me, girls. Ciao!' He hung up and grinned at the others. 'All we gotta do is sprinkle burnt clove dust around the perimeter, light a few candles, incant a few choice phrases and voila! We'll be safe as houses.'

But his good cheer was not infecting Lilah, she just rolled her eyes. 'Great - and then what? So Angelus can't hurt us as long as we stay inside, it doesn't help us from stopping him murdering everyone out there. Or help us with The Beast. All we've done is given ourselves a nice little hideyhole - well, good luck stopping Armageddon from in here.'

Fred rounded on her - ready to yell, but Wesley spoke first. 'She's not wrong,' he said. 'It's good we now have a safe house, but it isn't enough. We need a plan to stop Angelus. And then a plan to stop The Beast.'

'And you know you're not up to taking on either of them,' Lilah smirked.

'Angelus is stronger and smarter than all of us,' Wesley agreed, 'he'll kill us all one by one.'

'Then - what do you suggest?' Asked Fred, looking troubled, 'we can't do nothing.'

'What about the Groosalug?' Gunn asked, 'he's an undefeated champion. He's got the superpowers - he's got the brawn to go toe to toe with Angelus - right?'

'Ah - he might have the brawn, sugar muffin, but he's not got the brains,' Lorne said, pouring cold water all over the idea. 'In Pylea he was a great mythic champion because he would defeat any monster they put up against him - but that was drokkens and lurg beasts and other dumb animals with fangs. Those kinds of monsters - he can kill whatever you throw at him … but a demon with the cunning of Angelus?' Lorne shook his head. 'Angelus will run rings around him until he's too dizzy to hold a sword straight and then trick him into his own death. Groo doesn't stand a chance against an opponent with that kind of intellect.'

Wesley nodded thoughtfully, 'we need a champion who can match Angelus physically and stand against him mentally. Someone with cunning and resourcefulness - as well as raw power.'

'Right,' Gunn sounded defeated, 'well we better crack open the champion Rolodex - 'cause who the hell fits that description?'

* * *

In Stockton, North California, the sun shone down on the yard of the Northern California Women's Facility. The yard was crowded with inmates; playing cards, shooting hoops, working out. The walkie talkie on one of the guard's shoulders buzzed - and he conveyed the message to the rest of the yard. '430019 coming out,' he yelled. The door behind him buzzed and slid open - and Faith the Vampire Slayer walked out into the sunshine.


	50. Salvage: Part Two

_Part Two_

Doyle swallowed nervously, as Angelus advanced further into the room - still smiling. The half demon cursed himself, as he realised he didn't even have a weapon. He clutched the holdall, tighter; his eyes darted to the doorway behind Angelus. 'You think you can get past me?' Angelus asked. 'I knew someone would turn up here, in the end,' he said. 'I just knew that Princess Cordelia would want her own things, as she recuperates from her injuries.' He chuckled. 'I knew the ditzy bitch would dispatch some sad minion to go collect her eye cream and bubble bath.' He narrowed his eyes at Doyle, 'I should have guessed it would be you.'

Doyle remained frozen, rooted to the spot. Angelus leaned in towards him, his voice became a vindictive whisper. 'It must just _kill _you that she's with soul boy, now,' he said. 'Does it keep you awake at night, huh, Doyle? Imagining her writhing beneath him? Sweating and gasping and moaning. Oh god - the screams - you should hear 'em. She's a screamer, our Cordy - and I can't wait to make her scream for me… You think about me and her together, Doyle?' He scanned the half demon up and down. 'The things she says… she compares us, you know. Not out loud - not in so many words. But soul boy can tell. She looks at his abs, her eyes warm with lust - and he knows she's remembering…' he let his own eyes drift pointedly over Doyle's untoned chest and rounder stomach. 'She runs her fingers across my skin… squeezes my biceps. She ever do that to you, Doyle?' he laughed out loud, 'of course she didn't … not unless she was making fun of you, chicken little.'

Doyle stayed still - not answering. Still frozen. 'What? No witty retort?' Angelus asked him, 'Cordelia - now - she always has something to say. Yak yak yak yak yak yak. I don't know how you and soul boy haven't ripped your own ears off having to listen to her. Anything to get between those thighs, eh? The things she says to Angel.' He made his voice into a mocking falsetto, '_Oh Angel - I've never been with such a man as you, before. Oh Angel it's never felt like this before. Oh Angel - it's never been so good before. _It's always about how it's the best she's ever had - always about what came before and how it wasn't as good. Not as satisfying.'

Doyle was gripping his holdall so tight his knuckles had turned white. A pulse twitched in his eyelid. But he still didn't speak. His eyes stayed fixed on the doorway. He could see something Angelus couldn't. He just needed to hold his nerve … wait for his moment... Angelus leered at him. 'Angel's done things with Cordelia that you couldn't even dream of, little guy, seen a whole side of her you never even knew existed. Brought something out in her - primal - and insatiable. I'm sure it was nice with you - but with those two…' he whistled. 'And that's not even the half of it - 'cause now the evil twin's back in town, Cordy's about to find out that there's a whole world more of pleasure and pain and screaming than even soul boy showed her… And you know, I think I might just make you watch. Do you think you're still gonna want her, when I'm done with her?'

Doyle kept staring - just beyond Angelus - out into the next room. The vampire cocked his head, 'what, nothing to sa…' he was cut off mid sentence by the whistling sound of a blade whipping through the air. He turned, just in time, as Phantom Dennis swung an axe right at his neck. His hands shot out, instinctively, and he caught the blade midair. There was then a desperate tussle between the vampire and the ghost - as each struggled to snatch the axe from their opponent. Doyle took his opportunity. He morphed into his demon spikes and hurled himself through the bedroom window. The glass smashed - and he fell through the air and then tumbled to the ground, outside. He rolled, grabbed the holdall and got to his feet.

Angelus stopped fighting and turned to stare at the broken window. He whistled, 'well I gotta hand it to him, the kid's got some sense.' He heard the distant sound of an engine starting up - and he frowned. 'Wait - has he got _my car_?' He shook his head, 'well, Dennis, it's been fun - we gotta hang out again soon - two dead guys - one chick. We'll have a party. But I gotta be on my way now - I gotta see a Beast about a Boss. Toodles.' He waggled his fingers in an insincere goodbye - and walked out of the apartment.

Phantom Dennis put down the axe - and went to get the dustpan and brush to sweep up the broken glass.

* * *

Faith ignored everyone else. She had always been a loner - and she still was. Behind her, she could hear the basketball game playing out - but she zoned out the noise and concentrated on her pullups. She kept her back turned to the rest of the yard, as she worked out. The whole world shrank, so it was just her and the burn in her muscles. This was as good as it got.

...

An inmate worked their way through the basketball game. She was tough - a lifer - but she was nearing middle age … and knew she was outmatched, going in. She took a knife out from under her shirt and approached the woman on the bar.

...

She could sense danger, even when she couldn't see it, her slayer instincts were as honed as ever. Though no one else in the yard noticed anything amiss, Faith, with her back turned, knew something was about to go down. She turned round, on the bar, and kicked the convict, creeping towards her, in the face. The woman was knocked to the ground, and the slayer flipped herself off the bar - somersaulting through the air - and landed on her feet - facing her attacker. 'OK, you got my attention,' she said, 'what's your beef, Deb?'

The woman stood up and launched at her, with the knife. 'You really ought to think twice,' Faith said to her. Deb swung the knife and Faith pushed her away, 'or not.'

'Nothing personal,' Deb said. She jabbed at Faith again, who blocked the blow and then punched the other woman hard in the face; knocking her down once more. 'I need the money,' Deb explained from down on the ground.

Faith grabbed a bell bar with a huge weight at either end, lifting it easily, and then thumped Deb in the face with the end weight. There was a sickening crunch. 'For what - a nose job?' Faith threw the weight away from herself - as the guards pushed their way through the onlooking crowd.

Immediately, Faith stepped back and put her hands in the air. 'Hey, hey, self defence. She attacked me, Eddie.'

'Yeah, I saw the whole thing,' the guard said, he nodded to his colleague, 'get her to the infirmary.' Deb was taken away.

'Wait, you saw?'

'Hey!' Eddie said, defensively, 'took us by surprise.' He picked up the knife Deb had been using and examined it. It was a curved dagger - with jewels in the hilt … not the standard cheap blades that got smuggled in here, or the homemade knives the cons sometimes fashioned out of whatever they could find. He'd never seen anything like this before - not in real life. He looked at Faith, nonplussed. 'Who'd be crazy enough to try and take you out?' he asked.

* * *

'Did Dennis find my heat pack?' Cordelia asked. Doyle was back in her room - unpacking her things for her. 'Yep - I heated it up before I came up here.' He handed her the warmed wheat bag. She took it, gratefully, and put it on her midriff, on top of her wound. 'That feels good,' she smiled.

'Good, y'know I'd forgotten just how much that thing stinks,' he said to her. She laughed. 'Philistine. It's great for all those after battle acheys. Did you bring my seasalts?'

'Uhuh - and your eye cream and your moisturiser - that orangey one you like.'

'Bergamot.'

'Yeah - that. I'll just go put your washbag in the bathroom.' He disappeared next door and started to take her toiletries out of the bag and put them round the sink. He stopped. The toothbrush mug still had two toothbrushes in it … from back when he had lived here - and she would sometimes stay the night with him. He hadn't dared come back to the hotel to get his things, once he had confessed his betrayal … and so their toothbrushes had stayed here - same as his weapons had stayed in the closet and his laundry had stayed in the basket. A snapshot of their life together, frozen in place because no one had thought to move it. The whole room was like a time capsule of a happier, simpler time.

'What's taking so long?' Cordy called through.

'Nothin'...' he took out the old toothbrushes and threw them in the trash - it was ridiculous that he felt a pang in his chest, as he did that - but he did. He put her current toothbrush and paste in the mug and then went back out into the bedroom. 'All done,' he smiled. 'Everythin' y' need.'

'Thanks, Doyle,' she smiled gratefully. 'And you'll be glad to know that no crazed vampires turned up to attack me whilst you were gone.'

'Uh … yeah?' he shuffled his feet awkwardly, 'that's 'cause … Angelus was at your place. I spoke to him.'

'What?' she sat upright, and the heat pad fell from her torso. She frowned and grabbed it, reapplying it to her wound - but then fixed her stare back on Doyle. 'Oh my god - are you OK?'

'Yeah .. well, I mean, when I said I spoke to him … he mostly did the talkin' - you know how Angelus is.'

She wrinkled her face, 'did he ask you about your junk, again?' she asked sympathetically. That actually made him laugh. 'Not this time - thankfully.' Then his face fell. 'He was - uh - he was actually mostly talkin' about … well, about you, Princess. And him - you know. The other him. Angel.'

'He was talking about me and Angel? What did he say?'

Doyle looked even more uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, shoved his hands in his back pockets and looked around anywhere but at Cordelia.

'Doyle?'

'Oh - OK - well - I guess he was just … y'know…. Talkin' about your relationship. And … how it compares to ours … the one we had, I mean.'

'They don't compare,' Cordelia said, wrinkling her nose.

'Yeah …' he still looked everywhere but her, 'that's what I heard.'

'_What?'_ she threw the wheat bag at him.

'Ow!'

'Bring that back to me, sit down and tell me exactly what he said,' she commanded. He meekly did as he was told, returning the heat pack and sitting down on the bed beside her. She fixed him with a stern glare. 'Spill,' she said.

'Well he just … I mean it makes sense. He's over 200 and I'm … not. And he must have been with so many women in two and a half centuries… whereas for me there was only ever you - and Harri. So, I mean, I'm trying not to take it personally. I'm not offended. I understand.'

'What on earth are you babbling about?' she asked him.

'That it's so much better with Angel, than it ever was with me. Plus he's tall. Muscular … weirdly hairless ...'

'What's so much better?' She was looking more and more perplexed. Doyle wriggled and blushed a deep crimson. 'Y'know…' his voice dropped to a mutter, 'the sex,' he whispered.

Cordelia's eyebrows hit the top of her forehead - and then she burst out laughing. Doyle flamed an even deeper red. 'Well that's no way to react, laughin' at a fella!'

'You're right, you're right,' she wheezed, 'I shouldn't laugh.' She winced and put her hand to her wounded abdomen, 'it hurts to laugh.' She fought to straighten her face. 'Doyle...' he was avidly not looking at her, again. She reached out and took his hand. 'Angel and I have never … whatever Angelus said to you about it, it was a lie. He just said it to make you crazy.'

He twisted back to look at her, 'really?' She nodded. His whole body relaxed - tension drained from him and it was like a great weight being lifted from his shoulders. 'That's really good to hear…' then he caught himself - and tensed again, awkward once more. 'Not that it's any o' my business,' he said, quickly, scrambling to his feet and moving away from her. He ran his hand through his hair making it go all fluffy and stick out in every direction. 'I mean, you're with Angel now. You can do whatever makes you happy -' he turned back to look at her, 'all I want is for you to be happy.'

'Well, I'm not,' she said to him. He looked confused, and she held out her hand for him, silently asking him to come back and sit on the bed. He returned to her side and sat down. 'I'm not exactly with Angel, right now, am I?' She said. 'Angel isn't here anymore. His soul is off floating in a jar, god knows where, and the fiend that wears his face is killing my friends. It's Sunnydale '98 all over again. And I'm definitely not happy about it. '

'Well, y'know - we got him back that time. He went to hell and everythin' and we got him back. So …'

'So what? We find a way to restore his soul and he and I go and play happy families?'

'Well .. yeah, if that's what you want, why not?'

She flumped back down on the bed, lying against the pillow and looked up at the man beside her. 'For the same reason he came to L.A in the first place,' she told him. 'Because Angel cannot have a meaningful, romantic relationship - it's too risky.'

'You can manage the risk,' Doyle tried to assure her. This felt weird. Counselling the woman he loved, more than anything, in how she could work her relationship out with another man. But if he really loved her, her happiness had to come first. And if she wanted to be with Angel - then that was what he wanted for her. And he would make do with a bottle of scotch. And move to Alaska.

'Right - so I can live my life on edge, being a second rate Buffy until the day that I'm not?'

'You're not a second rate Buffy … Angel didn't know about the curse that first time. Now he knows - he's always on the alert. It's got nothin' to do with how in love he is. He can't relax enough to be perfectly happy, anymore.'

'Yeah - unless he goes to sleep and his dreams give him a happy.'

'That was a mystical dream, Cordy - not y' run of the mill, naked in the icecream section of the grocery store, dreams.'

The corner of her mouth quirked into a half smile, 'that's _your_ recurring dream,' she pointed out, 'not his.'

'And believe me it does not make me perfectly happy. Perfectly horrified and traumatised - yeah. It does that… which just proves my point. You don't have to worry about his dreams, unless there's a spooky shaman and some incense involved.'

The smile dropped from her face. 'I don't know,' she said, softly, turning her head on the pillow. 'What's not to know?' he asked her.

'OK,' she turned so she was looking at Doyle, again, and struggled to sit back up. She pushed her hair out of her face, as she thought how to say it. 'This whole time, in L.A - working for Angel - being his friend, trying to be more than just friends … I've always maintained that he and Angelus were not the same thing.'

'Right…' Doyle said, slowly.

'That there was a difference between them - and that I knew it. That I knew Angel was not Angelus and vice versa.'

'I think it's pretty safe to say that there's a pretty noticeable difference between Angel and Angelus, darlin'.'

'But that's just it!' she sounded exasperated. Her eyes were shining - though not with tears - with the passion of what she was saying. 'When I opened that cage door, I was _convinced _that the man inside was Angel. I told him that I looked into his eyes and saw him there. And I wasn't lying - I wasn't being kind to make him feel better.'

'Well, that's not your way.'

She slapped him, lightly, on the arm. He smiled.

'I honestly believed it,' she said. 'I really, truly, one hundred percent - in the pit of my stomach and right the way down to my toes - thought I was looking into Angel's eyes. I wouldn't have let him out if I had even had one flicker - one tiny percentage of doubt. I had none. That was Angel. I _knew_ it… I was wrong.'

'Well that's understandable.'

'But that's the point!' she threw up her hands in frustration and then winced - as she felt the tug in her injured abdomen. 'It's not understandable,' she said more quietly, massaging her side. 'The whole point was that I always claimed to know the difference between the two of them - and I clearly don't. If I have a relationship with Angel - I won't ever know which one of them is in the room … until it's too late. How can we build something meaningful, if I never feel safe?'

'I think...' he wriggled, again, and cleared his throat. 'I think things just seem bad now, because Angelus is here. But you've moved past him losing his soul before - and you can again.'

'I wasn't dating him, then,' she said, sullenly.

'And that makes it so much different?'

'It does…' she turned to look out of the window again. When she spoke her voice was small - and embarrassed. 'That night I went to talk to him - on the bluffs - the night he disappeared … Fred told me I was in love with him. And I was … God, Doyle I was so pissed off at you. I was so angry and everything hurt - my insides were like … an echoing cavern of pain, or something. But - when I was with Angel - and Connor - they would cheer me up. I was loved and wanted and needed, when I was with them. They helped filled the void - or at least, they distracted me from it. So when Fred said … I though '_to hell with it' _\- I deserve to be happy. And then he vanished and I needed to find him. When he came back … it wasn't until the night you died, breaking into that auction house, that I decided to take things to the next level, with Angel. I wanted to be with someone who wouldn't leave me - I wanted my heart to be safe. You were always getting kidnapped and injured - and then you were killed - briefly - and I just thought… I wanted to be with someone where my heart didn't have to be constantly on the line. And Angel's practically indestructible. So I decided to move things forward.' She chuckled, darkly, but kept her head turned away from Doyle, 'so much for my heart being safe,' she muttered.

'Well…' he was also carefully not looking at her, instead his eyes were following creases in the bed spread - the fingers of his left hand were clutching and unclutching the edge of the duvet in a nervous, unconscious tick. 'When all this is over… Angel will be indestructible again - and you can … you know…'

Still turned away from him, she shook her head. 'I think it's too late for that,' she said, softly - sounding a little sad.

'Why?'

'Because … Doyle, my entire relationship with Angel has only ever been about _you_. All along. I see that now. I've been clinging to him because I couldn't be with you - and I didn't wanna deal with the pain of that.'

'So … what does that mean?'

'For us? … I don't know. But it can't mean anything good for me and Angel.'

He nodded - and then stood up. She turned her head - as she felt his weight leave the bed, beside her - but she still didn't dare look into his face. He cleared his throat, again. 'Well - uh - I should probably let you rest.' He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. 'I'll just be outside - if y' need anythin'... Wes asked me to take a look at that banishing spell for The Beast. See if I can use my creepy demon decoder powers to make some sense of it. So I'll be workin' on that. But call - if you need anythin' -' he stumbled backwards, towards the door, 'anythin' at all.'

'OK,' she said quietly. She didn't look up until she heard the door close behind him.

* * *

Angelus wended his way through the dark and fraught streets of Los Angeles. The mayhem was fun to see - the fighting and madness and the fire all reminded him of the Boxer rebellion - though it had been soul boy in the driving seat, back then. But he didn't have time to stop and revel in the slaughter that surrounded him.

He had sought out a demon who was said to know where The Beast was hiding. The demon had been a bust - babbling about what an honour it was to meet the great Angelus and wanting autographs for his hellspawn … but a couple of the other vamps, in the bar, had said they'd heard something … they had a beat on where Big Rocky kept his lair. And they were only too eager to be of use to a vampire of Angelus' reputation. He was a celebrity. A legend. He missed that … the neutered champion he was imprisoned inside was famous for all the wrong reasons. It was embarrassing.

But now, here he was - his own man again - and on the trail of The Beast. The vampire flunkeys had brought him down by the river - to an area of abandoned and derelict warehouses. 'Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is the place,' one of the vamps was saying.

'Where was The Beast headed?' Angelus asked - but the vampire claimed to not remember. So Angelus grabbed him by the shirt front and snarled in his face, 'try remembering harder, Paco.' Flunkeys - they always tried his patience. You could never get decent flunkeys.

'OK! I was just tryin' to steer clear of the mammoth, alright?' the vampire protested. Angelus was about to start getting really violent … when he suddenly caught the hint of an alluring scent on the air. An iron-ey tang that he had already knew - he had already followed it once this evening.

He dropped the vampire to the ground and stalked off - following his nose. Following the scent of Kate's blood… it led him inside one of the warehouses. There was no sign of The Beast - except for a knife lying out on an old cardboard box. The knife looked like it was made of stone. And the scent of Kate was smeared all over it in glistening, ruby streaks. 'Is this how you treat an old friend?' Angelus asked the seemingly empty warehouse. 'Kill one of the chicks I was chasing and then lure me here with the scent of her blood.'

The Beast emerged from behind a tower of the sodden, rotting cardboard boxes. 'We were never friends, Angelus,' he said - in his deep rumble of a voice.

Angelus grinned, 'I know, but calling you a big dumb hunk of rock seemed a little on the nose.' He shrugged - as he felt The Beast's irritation, 'come on - I'm teasing. It's been what? A couple of hundred years and you still want to kick my ass?'

But that was not The Beast's intentions. Of course, he could crush Angelus' skull … but he had not brought the vampire here to fight. That was not his instructions.

'Instruction?' Angelus asked.

'My master has requested you…'

'Your master.' Angelus nodded, cutting the demon off. He looked at the knife and made as if to pick it up. 'Nice workmanship,' he commended, 'did you make this in shop for daddy?'

'Do not touch that!' The Beast roared.

That made Angelus chuckle, 'sorry,' he apologised - insincerely - 'I can see you put a lot of _yourself_ into it.' He changed the topic of the conversation: all the things that had happened, the attack on Angel Investigations, the rain of fire, blotting out the sun …

'Stealing your soul,' The Beast added, 'all designed by my master to bring forth and keep Angelus.'

Angelus chuckled once more. It was a great plan - showed a lot of big picture thinking. When could he meet the man responsible for his liberation?

'In time. For now you take your orders through me.'

'Or - here's an idea - how about I don't?' He walked towards The Beast. 'Tell your boss I'm grateful for the attention, but I don't take the grocery lists from the messenger boy.'

'I will teach you respect.'

'Look,' Angelus told the demon, 'you might have played those suckers at Angel, inc - but I don't like having my strings pulled. And I don't like being kept in the dark.' He smiled, 'figuratively speaking,' he clarified. 'And if your boss is half as smart as he thinks he is, then he knows I won't take orders from a lackey.' The Beast looked angry - and Angelus' face became mocking, 'what, you don't like lackey? How about toady? Or lickspittle? Lickspittle's good. Or - I got it - flunkey. You're a big, stupid, butt ugly -' The Beast lurched towards Angelus, who ducked out of the way and carried on talking, 'slow moving flunkey.'

The Beast took another swing - Angelus ducked again - and again. After dodging one final blow, he jumped up into the rafters - and smirked down at The Beast. 'When the Beastmaster's ready to peek out from behind your skirt, have him give me a call.' He climbed out of the skylight.

...

Kali emerged from behind the tower of boxes. 'Well, you handled that brilliantly,' she said - sounding displeased.

'He is not to be trusted,' The Beast told her. She smacked him. 'What about you? Letting him bait you into a fight like that.' She began to pace. 'I haven't spent all this time and energy so you can mess it up with your petty jealousies … you know Angelus is crucial to my plan.'

'My apologies, my master,' The Beast bowed his head.

'You need to learn patience,' she told him, she stared up in the direction of the skylight that Angelus had climbed through, 'He'll come around, when he sees what I have to offer. And if he doesn't … you can pull off his head and tear him to bits.'

* * *

Fred, sitting on top of the counter, lit some white candles. Lorne read from the notepad he had scribbled the incantation on. 'Violence restrained, demons disarmed. For mortals within these walls, no harm. Protection and safety this charm doth endow to make this shelter a sanctuary now.'

Everyone looked around - waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. 'Is that it?' Gunn asked sceptically.

'Well … if we followed the recipe, should be cake,' Lorne said, smiling nervously. He wasn't convinced, himself. 'A demon violence - free zone cake.'

'I don't know, Lorne,' Fred said looking around, 'it doesn't feel like anything's different.' Usually - after magic - there was an electricity in the air, a crackle in the atmosphere that hinted at something otherworldly taking place. But there wasn't even so much as a ripple. The air remained undisturbed.

Lialh rolled her eyes, 'are you always this challenged?' she asked them. Both Fred and Lorne looked annoyed - but Lilah ignored them and stepped up to the green demon. 'Come on,' she said, making a beckoning motion with her hands, 'hit me.'

Lorne looked round at the others in surprise, 'is it Christmas already?' he asked.

'You want to test the spell don't you?' she said, 'check it worked? You're a demon. Let's put your mojo where your mouth is. Hit me. Come on...' she smiled her wolf's grin, 'take a swing.'

Lorne looked at the others - not sure what to do. Wesley looked up from the book he was poring over, 'it really does seem a logical thing to do,' he said, 'if Lilah is happy to take the risk…'

He was cut off from finishing his sentence by Lorne seizing the opportunity and swinging his fist right at Lilah. He never made contact. Instead, he collided with a giant, blue forcefield, which knocked him back off his feet. Lilah threw back her head and laughed. Fred and Gunn rushed over to help Lorne up. 'See, it _does_ work,' he told them, sounding rather dazed, 'and it smarts like the dickens - ouch.'

Wesley had been smiling, privately, as he watched the scene unfold. He made brief eye contact with Lilah - and she raised an eyebrow at him. He quickly straightened his face and cleared his throat. 'Good - well, now that's done, I've been thinking about our next step. Where are Cordelia and Doyle?' he asked.

'Cordy's still resting, upstairs, and Doyle's stood on guard, why?' Gunn said.

'This next bit will just be easier if I don't have to explain it to them, first,' Wesley told the group. 'We're bringing Angelus in alive.'

'I thought you said capturing him wasn't an option,' Gunn said, lowering his brow.

'I've changed my mind.'

Lilah raised her hand. 'Can I be the first one to tell you to change it back?'

'We get rid of Angelus, then what?' Wesley said to them. 'We still have a Beast we don't know how to kill. Maybe Doyle can work something on the banishing spell, but it's not much to pin our hopes on. We know The Beast is working for something much worse - but we don't know what. We're caught in the middle of a maelstrom and we can't get out without our champion. We're gonna save Angel - and I know who we need to help us do it.'

* * *

Faith walked down the corridor, lined with prison bars, and out into the visiting area. She was surprised - she didn't know how come she had a visitor. She hadn't been expecting it. The area was set out with tables, partitioned from each other to allow privacy, and a phone - which linked up to a phone on the opposite side of the reinforced glass.

She sat down at the table the guard indicated to her - and raised an eyebrow when she saw who was sat on the other side of the glass. She picked up her phone. 'They told me my lawyer was here to see me. You my lawyer now, Wes?'

'Hello Faith,' Wesley said. 'How are you?'

'Still alive.' She leaned back in her seat, 'never thought I'd live long enough to see you paying me a visit.'

'A lot's happened,' he told her.

'Whatever it is - it suits you. You look…' she scanned him up and down, checking him out. The glasses were gone. Stubble was in - a lot of it. '...Good,' she admitted, nodding approvingly. If he'd turned up in the library, back in old SunnyD, looking like this - maybe she would have listened to him. Maybe things would have been different for her … for them.

But he wasn't interested in her appraisal. 'You know what's happening in L.A?' he asked. She nodded. She'd seen the news: the never ending night, the rain of fire. She smiled - a glimpse of her old seductive pout, 'team Angel must have their hands full.'

'You don't know the half of it.'

She leaned forward, again, and rested her elbows on the table. 'But you're here to fill in the blanks for me. Why?'

'We need you.'

She laughed - and when she spoke her voice was sarcastic. 'Well, uh, I hate to wet the paper for you, Wes - but I'm kinda unavailable right now. Maybe you wanna check back in a few decades when my parole comes up.'

'You need to know...' he began to say. She interrupted him. 'It's Armageddon,' she said, 'I dig. The last thing you need's me in the mix. Besides,' she smiled wryly. 'Angel'll come shining through in the end, like he always does.' She was chuckling.

'Angel's gone, Faith.' The chuckling stopped. 'Angelus is back,' Wesley told her. She stared at him - there was fear in her eyes and a leaden weight in the pit of her stomach. If she thought about it too long, she knew she would begin to tremble. Her mind was made up - before she even realised it was happening. She hadn't meant to walk away. She had meant to see this thing out - see it through to the bitter end - prove to herself and the world that she was different, that she was in control. That she had changed. Best made plans … stuff always got in the way... _Life_ always got in the way. She should have known…

'Step away from the glass,' she said. Her voice was deadly calm - betraying nothing - and it took Wesley a couple of seconds to realise what she meant to do - and clear out of the way. She hung her phone up, got out of her chair and took a few steps back - giving herself a run up. Then, she hurled herself at the reinforced glass. She came tumbling through, head first, in a dive, rolled across the floor and when she got back to her feet, came up swinging.

She ignored the alarmed cries from her fellow inmates and their visitors. She thumped the first security guard that came at her and he crumpled … and she threw the next one over her shoulder and slammed him to the ground. She ignored the twinge of guilt as she did that … and then she grabbed hold of Wesley and launched them both through the window.

She twisted, midair, to make sure she would land first - cushion his fall. They fell through the air - and it seemed like time stood still - as they crashed towards the earth. And then they landed, heavily, on the hood of a car - and time sped up again. The windshield broke, the hood crumpled and the car alarm started to sound - the indicators blinking away. They rolled off the car and brushed the glass from themselves. 'You OK?' Faith checked.

Wesley grinned at her, 'five by five.'


	51. Salvage: Part Three

_Part Three_

Faith changed her clothes in the back of Wesley's car - stripping off her prison uniform and putting on jeans and a top and jacket; making her a little more incognito. They had passed through into the city limits of Los Angeles and the world was in darkness. It was uncanny. Driving out of the sunshine into a wall of impenetrable black had been something else. Most of the traffic was headed the other way, and Faith couldn't blame them. Driving into the eternal night was sheer madness. Welcome to her life. And Angel's - by the sound of it.

'A kid?' she said incredulously, 'Angel's got a kid?'

'Connor,' Wesley nodded, from upfront.

'And you guys - what? Balance demon hunting and happy family time? Taking it in turns to babysit between the bloodshed?'

'Something like that.'

'Sounds like a wacky supernatural sitcom. Hell - I'd watch it, if the network would put it on.'

'It's anything but - I'm afraid,' he told her, as she finished changing and climbed back through into the front seat. 'More like an ultra violent, suspense driven horror film with noir elements … and occasionally like a soap opera.'

'Well, whatever brings them in at the box office,' she grinned. 'But I have to ask … what the hell are you people doing?'

'Leading complicated lives, obviously,' Wesley replied, keeping his eyes on the road. She shook her head, 'unleashing Angelus to help you stop this demon who put the lights out, that's just …'

'The Beast,' he told her, 'the demon who put the lights out - called The Beast.'

Faith shrugged and leaned her head against the window, 'gas to the flames is all I'm saying.'

The distant sound of a siren drifted past and she tensed and looked over her shoulder - scanning the road behind them. 'I wouldn't worry about the police coming after you,' he said. 'Not yet. With everything that's happening, an escaped convict won't even register on their radar.'

She relaxed a little and slumped down in her seat - peering through the darkness to watch the city go past. 'I'm not gonna kill him, Wes,' she said after a while. 'Angelus,' she turned to look at the driver, 'whatever you thought you sprung me for - I don't care. Angel's the only one in my life who's never given up on me. There's no way I'm gonna…'

'I know,' he interrupted, 'that's why it had to be you.' He glanced around. 'I'm just wondering if you're up to it.' He stopped the car.

She raised an eyebrow, 'if I'm…?'

'You've no idea what it's like out there, Faith,' he said to her - turning to face her. 'It's a vampire demon free-for-all all the time. Maybe you're a little rusty.'

She nodded, swallowing down her irritation, 'maybe I am,' she agreed, diplomatically. Time was, she would have grabbed his head and smashed his face against the wheel; breaking his nose for daring to suggest such a thing. Times changed. 'Maybe we should find out?' Wesley suggested.

She nodded again, 'what did you have in -' she was cut off by the glass smashing, behind her - and then she was dragged, bodily, through the broken window. Wesley watched her feet disappear and then turned to open his own door. He opened it directly onto a vampire, who was knocked to the ground by the force. The watcher got out of the car and knocked the vampire to the ground again. He could hear the sounds of Faith fighting her own vampire, around the passenger side.

As the vampire got up, once more, and came at him, Wesley held up a hand to stop him. 'Ah,' he pointed over his shoulder at where Faith was fighting, 'she's the one you want.'

The vampire's eyes followed the direction Wes pointed in - and settled on the sight of a young woman mercilessly beating two vampires at once. This could only mean one thing… '_slayer,_' he said - and then he turned tail and fled off into the city.

Wesley turned to watch Faith. She was easily holding her own, throwing punches and landing kicks … but she didn't have a weapon. He tossed her a stake and she plunged into the heart of the first vampire. As he exploded in a cloud of dust, she pulled the stake back and rammed it into the chest of the other vampire. He, too, crumbled into nothingness. When she looked up, she was breathing heavily and there was a flush to her cheeks.

'Thought you could use a release,' Wesley said to her, 'feel natural?'

She shrugged, 'like riding a biker.'

* * *

Doyle still sat up on the balcony, outside of Cordy's room. He had pulled a chair and placed it just outside her door. He sat in it, his head leaning against the wall - a fighting axe lay on the ground, beside him. Nothing was getting in to Cordelia whilst she was injured, he was determined. He sighed and turned bleary eyes back on the banishing spell.

...

Down in the lobby, Gunn sat alert and ready - loading his crossbow. Lorne watched him, one sardonic eyebrow raised. 'Oh relax, boyo - the spell's working,' he said. He glanced across at Lilah, 'and I've still got the headache to prove it.'

'Maybe so,' Gunn said, finishing loading up, 'but if Angelus shows up, I wanna be ready.'

The front door opened and Wesley and Faith walked in. 'we are now,' Wesley told them, 'everyone - this is Faith the Vampire Slayer.'

Faith was looking around - looking up at the high, art deco ceilings and the ornate balustrade. 'Sweet crib,' she breathed.

...

Up on the balcony, Doyle frowned - as he heard brief snippets of what was going on below. He got off his chair and went to look.

...

Faith had spotted Lilah, 'hey - the evil lawyer,' she said, 'long time no see - I'm guessing a life of evil law isn't working out so well after all, if you're hiding here with the whitehats?'

'My circumstances are changeable … but I'm not ready to throw in with the goodies, just yet,' Lilah said. 'We don't all have epiphanies about the error of our ways. Some of just enjoy good, old fashioned evil. You just never had what it takes to be the bad guy… kinda wonder how you'll manage today.'

Faith looked her up and down, noticing her wound and her dishevelled state, 'well, I'm already making out better than you.'

'Give it an hour or so,' Lilah smirked.

Fred got to her feet and smiled in welcome. 'Hi Faith, I'm…'

'Fred, yeah,' Faith interrupted, looking her up and down. 'Wes kinda gave me the skinny on you.'

'Oh,' Fred's face fell - and she wondered what Wesley had told the slayer about her.

'Wes, man, what the hell is she doin' here?' Doyle had appeared on the stairs, to see what was going on, and was not looking best impressed to find the dark slayer standing in their lobby.

'Hey, I remember you,' Faith looked up at him, 'sorry about that time I kicked you in the face. You lost consciousness, right?'

'Yeah - I did. Couldda been worse though … _Wesley_,' he looked pointedly at the man Faith had brutally tortured.

'Look - I'm sorry - OK? But that's of the past. I've turned over a new leaf - seen the error of my ways. And I get you're not happy about your broken nose…'

'You didn't break my nose,' Doyle interrupted.

Faith looked surprised - and a little embarrassed, 'gee - did it always look like that?' she hissed at Wesley, who suppressed a smile. Doyle's hand flew, self consciously, to his prominent nose - feeling to see what was wrong with it. 'Cordelia is not gonna be happy with this - when she finds out…'

'If you don't tell her then she doesn't need to find out, until Angelus is captured and contained,' Wesley said to him. Doyle's eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead. 'You want me to lie to her? … again?'

'Just don't mention it.'

Doyle looked like he was about to fire off a furious retort - but Faith got in there first. 'Look,' she said, 'I get that people who knew me before don't have a reason to trust me - don't want me around. That's cool. But we don't have a lot of time - so can we wait until all this is over before we get into it? Cool...' she clapped her hands. 'We need to keep our hunting party tight,' she started firing out the instructions. 'Gunn, right?' she nodded at the Street fighter.

'Yeah.'

'Love the name. Wes tells me you're a good fighter.'

'I hold my own.'

'That's a shame,' there was a flicker of her seductive pout. Doyle folded his arms across his chest and sighed, disapprovingly. 'OK,' Faith was saying, 'Gunn, Wes and Doyle you're with me. Arm yourselves how you want - but Gunn I want you to carry the tranq gun. If I can't take him down, I want you to be ready to take the shot, yeah? This is a salvage mission - not search and destroy.' She turned to Doyle, 'Wes tells me you're part demon? That you have extra senses to help you track? We're gonna need 'em…'

'I'm not comin',' Doyle interrupted. Everyone stared at him. 'Doyle,' Wesley said, an edge of warning in his voice - telling the Irishman not to make a fuss, with his tone. There wasn't time for that. But Doyle shook his head and stuck to his guns. He was thinking of Lindsey, upstairs, holding Kate's rapidly cooling hand - as rigor mortis set in. 'There's no way I'm leavin' Cordelia, here, whilst she's injured,' he told them. 'It's nothin' personal, Faith - I don't like you - but it's not personal. Cordy is my priority. Not Angelus. I'm not leavin' here to go out there, huntin' - only to find he's doubled back on us, again.'

'But we got the sanctuary spell, now,' Fred said, 'and Lorne and I can take care of her.'

But he shook his head. He wasn't leaving her. 'Anyway - I can't hunt Angelus and work on that banishin' spell,' he pointed out. 'You got a slayer in the mix now, you don't need me. I can be more help back here.'

Faith stared at him for a long moment. He stared right back, arms folded resolutely. 'Fine,' she said - after a while, breaking eye contact. 'You stay here and play nursemaid - we got us a vampire to catch. Let's go,' she said to Wes and Gunn.

* * *

They young woman ran down the street, she was in tears of fright. Two guys followed her - their faces were … messed up. She'd never seen anything like it before, until the world turned into permanent midnight and now guys like this were everywhere. They wanted to hurt her - she knew that much. She ran faster - crying harder - and then screamed as she bumped headlong into a solid wall of muscle. She looked up. She had run straight into a man - banging into his chest. He was tall and handsome … his face wasn't like those other guys'... he smiled down at her and wrapped his arms around her, comfortingly.

'Help me,' she whispered.

'It's all right, doll. I've got you. shh.'

They began to walk away from the guys with the messed up faces, and she relaxed a little - now she had a protector, they were falling back. 'I don't know to thank you,' she said. Her stomach plunged as he stopped and grabbed hold of her. And when she looked up - his handsome face had changed - it was ridged and hideous, just like the others.

'Well,' Angelus grinned at her through his fangs, 'you can scream for me.'

She screamed. At the top of her voice. And she kept on screaming as he leaned down to bite her neck. But then he stopped and pulled up, short - turning to listen to the conversation the other vampires were having. A third had joined the two who had been chasing the woman, and they were having a muttered and heated discussion. 'The slayer?' one of Angelus' cronies asked, 'you sure?'

'I just got word, she's in town.'

Angelus dropped his hold on the woman - and she seized her opportunity and ran off into the darkness. But the vampire didn't even notice. He was smiling to himself… oh this should be good. This was better than he'd even hoped for.

He went to find a pay phone, slotted in some coins and dialled. After a few rings, he heard the phone pick up at the other end and a teenage girl answered. 'Hi Dawn,' he said - and smirked as he heard her surprise, 'yeah, it's me - listen, is your sister home? … she is?' He hung the phone up. 'It's the other one,' he said to himself.

* * *

Cordelia lay on her bed, staring out of the window - feeling confused. She had pretty much as good as just confessed to Doyle that she had never loved Angel and that she had only ever loved him - and that her attempts to move on with the vampire would have been doomed, even if he hadn't turned evil and started killing people … again. But she wasn't sure where that left her. She had been wrong to try and move forward with Angel - and, if Angelus didn't end up on the wrong end of a wooden stake, that was one heck of an awkward conversation she was going to have to have.

But, just because she knew that, now, didn't mean she knew what to do next. Moving forward wasn't right - but it didn't mean moving backwards - and being with Doyle, once more - was right, either. Even if that was what she had wanted all along. She sighed - she had made such a mess of things

It came as a relief, when her tumult of thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. 'Come in,' she called. The door open and Doyle, axe in one hand, stepped inside - looking at her rather sternly. 'Y' shouldn't just invite people in like that, without checkin',' he told her, 'what if I'd been Angelus?'

'I don't think Angelus knocks,' she replied, 'and anyway - this is his hotel - he can literally walk into any room he likes. Especially a room that isn't mine... any more.'

'Oh … right.'

'Did you want something?' she asked, struggling to sit up, so she could talk to him, more easily.

'Uh … yeah .. uh .. can I get you anythin'? Glass of water? Reheat your heat pack?'

She handed him the wheat bag with a smile, 'you're a star,' she said to him, 'and could I get a coffee?'

'Sure thing - uhm…' He fidgeted with the heat pack, in his hands, and shuffled his feet. She lowered her brow and looked at him quizzically. 'Doyle?' she said, 'is there something wrong?'

He swallowed - and then nodded, 'I was told not to tell y'...' he admitted, 'but … I'm done lyin' to y', Cordy, you deserve to know as much as anyone else - more even - considerin' you and Angel …'

'What?'

'Wes busted Faith outta jail,' he told her, 'she was here - in the hotel. Her and the guys have gone to hunt down Angelus. They mean to take him alive - bring him back...' he shrugged, 'lock him up, again, I guess … until they figure out a way to get his soul back.'

'_Faith?_' She looked scandalised, 'it's not bad enough we have Angelus roaming free, snacking on the local populace, Wes thought we might as well throw the psycho vampire slayer into the mix, as well?'

'Well…' he shuffled again, 'she hasn't killed anyone recently.'

'Neither has Charlie Manson - shall we break him out, too?'

'Look - I'm on your side - that's a fair point and I agree with y'. Faith … makes things more complicated. But Wesley has decided that we can't afford to kill Angelus, that we need our champion back. And for that, he reckons we need a slayer.'

'Well - that's what _Buffy_ is for.'

'Buffy's already killed Angel,' Doyle pointed out, 'and when the personal stakes were a lot higher for her. She'd do it again, if she had to. Wes wants Faith … because Faith owes Angel for everythin'. He stood by her - when no one else did - and so she'll do the same for him, now.'

'Or she'll die trying,' Cordelia muttered.

Doyle shrugged, 'well - we lose nothin' for tryin', I guess. And Faith gets a chance to repay Angel for all he's done for her. Really make atonement. Hidin' away in jail isn't the same as proper redemption, fightin' the fight. It just took somethin' that really mattered to let her take that step.'

'Angel,' Cordelia said softly.

'He always believed in her - was always there to make sure she got another chance - no matter how many times she screwed up.'

'Yeah he did,' she said, nodding slowly. Her eyes had a misty, faraway look about them. 'You know - that's one of his greatest strengths?' she said to Doyle, 'believing in people, giving them second chances - not giving up on them when they make mistakes. Even huge, catastrophic mistakes… the kind that make you question who they really are. He doesn't give up - let's them find their way back.'

'Uh - yeah - I guess he does, yeah,' Doyle said uncomfortably, wondering why she was suddenly so eager to praise Angel's softer side.

'Maybe - maybe I should be more like Angel,' she wondered. 'Maybe it would have been better on everyone, if I could just be like that. Not get so angry - hold grudges. Live and let live - you know? Forgive.'

'Uh …' she wasn't looking at him. In fact, he wasn't even sure if she was talking to him - or if she was just thinking aloud. And then it was like she suddenly snapped out of her reverie, realised what she had said - and started to look embarrassed. And then it hit Doyle exactly what she was talking about. He looked even more awkward. She wanted to be able to forgive _him_ \- but she couldn't. Not yet. He'd screwed up too big - and Cordelia did not have 200 years worth of wisdom to help her move past it. But she wanted to. And, then, maybe ...

'Well I'll - uh,' he stumbled back towards the door, 'I'll just get this heated for y',' he raised the wheat bag, 'and get y' that coffee.' He backed through the door and closed it behind him.

Left alone, again, Cordelia lay back down and closed her eyes. Could she really be more like Angel, when it came to the sins of the past? _Doyle's_ sins of the past. Could she really let him find his way back to her? And more to the point - _should_ she give him that second chance?

* * *

Faith, Wes and Gunn had made their way to down near the river. The city was a war-zone, chaos bleeding in every direction; vamps and demons running amok through the streets, tearing into the few humans that ventured out. It was a frenetic madness of death. An anarchic entropy, spiralling out of control. Busy, noisy … but Angelus was a loner.

He liked death. He liked destruction. But above all else, he liked pain - exquisite torture of the soul. He viewed it as an art form; fear and sadness and the broken human spirit crying out in grief. Everything Wesley had ever read about Angelus told him that his friend's evil alter ego would not find enjoyment in the vulgar revelry of the vampire masses; the slash and burn of Downtown. He would want his kills to be personal - to feel his victim's frantic heartbeat, to smell their fear up close and to see the pain in their eyes before he killed them.

He had headed back to the hotel to cause as much pain as he could. And, until he decided it was time to go back - and kill a few more friends, he would stay somewhere quiet; take one victim at a time and enjoy their lonely desperation before he snuffed out their life.

The abandoned warehouses along the river seemed like just the place that Angelus might hunt - whilst he bided his time before he killed his friends.

The three of them carried their weapons ready - but Faith was making sure that the two men understood that they were not to be used - until it was strictly necessary. 'Eyes and ears peeled,' she said to them, 'watch the periph - nobody make a move until I …'

A vampire jumped out at them - it knocked Faith to the ground. Wes and Gunn stayed still - weapons raised - following her orders. Faith flipped her self back upright, kicking the vampire in the face as she did. The vampire staggered backwards and Faith swung her fist in a hard right cross and then pinned him against a dumpster - her stake raised high. 'You know who I am?' she asked. The vampire nodded. 'Then you know I know how to use this thing,' she raised the stake to indicate what she was talking about. The vampire nodded again. 'You work for Angelus?' she asked, 'he around here?' There was a moment - whilst the vampire stayed silent. She brought the stake closer to his heart and he nodded. She eased the pressure up, letting him get up from against the dumpster, but kept him covered with her stake the whole time. 'You're gonna take us to him,' she said.

* * *

Doyle was back in his chair, poring over the banishing spell the Svea priestesses had left behind - not that he was really concentrating. The coffee and heat pack had been duly delivered to Cordelia - and he had left her alone - once more, and now he was thinking about what she had said. Did she really mean it? Could she ever forgive him? Trust him again? God knows, he was willing to work every day for the rest of his life to prove to her that he was sorry and he had learned his lesson and he would never betray her again … but that didn't mean he could ever make up for the lies he had already told, the hurt he had already caused.

If he could just … go back in time … slap himself and tell himself not to be such an idiot, to stop being so jealous that Angel had a kid, and that it didn't matter how much the vampire wanted Cordy, Cordy only wanted _him_. If he went back to a year ago - then he could stop himself from kidnapping Connor. And everything would be different. Maybe. Or at least - everything would be the same, but he would still be with Cordelia. But, of all the otherworldly things he knew about - time travel wasn't one of them. He was stuck here, in this reality - so he had better get on with trying to fix it.

'What are you doing?'

He looked up to see who had spoken. Kali was coming down the corridor towards him, frowning at the piece of paper held in his hand. 'Oh - um,' he glanced down at the paper and then back up at her, 'it's just that banishin' spell - you know that those priestess ladies were workin' on? … I'm tryin' to see if I can make head or tail of it.'

She came up to stand level with him, leaning against the balustrade, as she spoke to him. Her brow was lowered and she still looked perturbed. 'But … why would _you_ be able to? I thought Fred said it didn't make any sense?'

'She did.'

'And you're not a powerful witch … or part of an ancient Norse priestess sect…'

'That I'm not…' Doyle agreed, going back to scanning the paper.

'So … why are _you_ trying to figure it out?'

'Well … I got these special powers,' he said to her - not looking up from the paper. He squinted at the strange writing … maybe … if he just … he tilted his head …

'Powers?'

'Uhuh,' he said distractedly, narrowing his eyes and tipping his head from one side to the other, as he tried to latch on to the understanding that was dancing around on the periphery of his consciousness. 'There was a case - last year - some demons lookin' to cut Fred's head off, on account o' her massive brain. They were strange types - problem solvers. Loved 'emselves a puzzle. Anyway, I'd been out lookin' for a locket that had been stolen; when the locket was opened it could absorb the powers of anyone that looked into it. With the slight side effect of it meltin' them…' he shook his head and screwed his face up, remembering the sight of the melting demons. 'Anyhow, I had a vision o' Fred in danger - went to save her, opened the locket to kill the demons and - boom - I can solve all kinds o' weird problems, now. And I'm really good at the word jumble. Wes thought I might be able to crack this thing …' he tilted his head to the over side and stared long and hard at the runes and pictograms.

'That's … very interesting,' Kali said slowly.

'I'm an interestin' fella,' he said, absently - still staring intently at the piece of paper. Behind her back, Kali pulled out a knife. It was small and silver - but deathly sharp - and encased in a sheath.

Engrossed in the paper, Doyle did not notice the movement. He kept on tilting his head, this way and that - as a sort of sense started to form in his mind's eye. Kali held her breath - poised and ready. His face suddenly lit up, 'that's it!' he said standing up, looking elated. 'I got it.'

She unsheathed the knife. 'You do?'

'Yeah - lemme see - each rune represents a syllable - not a letter.' He traced the top line with his finger tip, still not noticing the tense stillness of Kali - or the fact that her hands were hidden. 'That's why Fred couldn't read it,' he explained. He got to his feet and began to pace up and down excitedly. Whilst his back was turned Kali pulled the knife out from behind her back. 'And when each word has been built from the syllables - there's a pictogram,' Doyle explained. 'That's why they come at irregular intervals - 'cause the words are different lengths. The pictogram gives us a sense of the full meaning of the word - each pictogram - built up - tells us exactly what to do.'

Kali followed him down the hallway, as he paced, on tiptoes. She was right behind him - knife raised - ready to plunge it into his back.

'Do you know what this means?' he span round to look at her. She quickly hid the dagger, once more. 'All we have to do is get Wes to translate what the runes mean - now we know they're not just letters and - wham - banished Beast.' He grinned at her. She smiled back, weakly. 'That's … great,' she said.

He began to pace again. She followed once more, readying her blade. 'The pictograms probably help us to know what stuff we'll need to do it,' he was saying, 'y'know - candles and orbs and stuff. And how we should set it all out. That sort o' thing is important when y' doin' dark ritu…' He came to a stop. She stopped behind him - hauled her arm down and plunged it towards his exposed back...

'It won't work,' he said suddenly. Her hand stopped - mere inches from striking the killing blow. He turned back to her - and she dropped her arm, so he didn't see the knife. 'It won't?' she asked.

He shook his head - 'well, yeah - it'll work … it'll banish The Beast. But it won't do us much good.'

'Why's that?' she had the knife behind her back again. She was beginning to sweat, her heart was pounding.

' 'cause he's swallowed the sun - or whatever he did to make it go black. All that energy is trapped inside o' him. Right?'

She shrugged - trying to look casual, indifferent, unsure. Maybe. Why would she know?

'And so, if we just banish him back to whatever hell plane of existence he came up from, he takes that energy back with him - right?'

'Maybe…?'

'Which means hello darkness forever, global blackout. We get rid o' the rock guy, but we kill off the entire planet in the process. It's no good.' He sank back down in his chair, looking defeated. 'We have to find a way to bring the sun back before we can even think about gettin' rid o' The Beast. As long as it's dark - we're stuck with him.'

'Huh,' she resheathed the knife and slid it back into her pocket, 'well that's a shame. I'm sorry, Doyle. I really thought you were onto something there.'

'Yeah,' he sighed, heavily, 'me too.'

'Well, I guess I'll leave you to … whatever you're doing, sitting up here, alone, in the hallway. Instead of being downstairs with the others.'

'I'm guardin' Cordy whilst she's injured,' he explained.

'Oh - right - you really love her, don't you?'

'It's kinda my definin' characteristic, yeah ...' he gave a wry smile, 'well, that and the drinkin'.'

'Yeah - really makes me wonder how come nobody noticed…'

'Noticed what?' he looked confused.

'Nothing,' she smiled and walked off, leaving him alone. He had no idea how close he had come to being murdered - just like Kate. Sat on his chair, he sighed - again. 'We'll just have to hope Faith can stop Angelus, after all,' he muttered to himself. Halfway down the hallway, Kali froze. She turned back to him. 'Faith?' she asked.

* * *

The three of them followed the vampire through the abandoned warehouses and were led out onto the roofs. 'Are you sure this is the best way to track him?' Wesley asked. But Faith only shrugged, 'it's this or wait for a trail of bodies to follow, or some other tell tale clue…' they rounded the corner and looked upward. Hanging off the side of the building was a huge banner that had the words 'WELCOME FAITH' daubed across it. '... like a handy carpet fibre,' Faith finished up.

'So much for the element of surprise,' Wesley said. 'We'll have to come at him from two sides…' but by the time he had finished - Faith had already disappeared from his side and was scaling the next door building, behind the banner, headed for its roof. 'I'll take high, you guys take low,' she called back to them.

'Damn - she's impulsive,' Gunn said, shaking his head. 'Shouldn't she…' he was cut off by a vampire punching him the face. Then, the vampire they had captured turned round and smacked Wesley - sending him flying. His sword flew from his hand and skittered across the ground.'

'Pretty ballsy, fellas,' Gunn's vamp said, 'creeping round my buddy Angelus.' Gunn swung a punch at him, but he missed. A third vampire stepped out of the shadows and put its foot on Wesley's sword. '_Our_ buddy Angelus,' he corrected.

The two men looked at each other.

* * *

Faith had climbed inside the warehouse now, through a sky light. She came down through the rafters and clambered her way down to the floor. 'Hey Faith, nice to see you again.' Angelus voice floated through the dry, musty air - though she couldn't see him. Yet. Apparently he could see her though. 'Mmm. You're looking choice as ever. Oh that's right, we've never really met - have we?'

'So what are you waiting for?' she asked, walking through the stacks of decaying cardboard boxes, 'come out and give me a kiss.'

'No no no, you come to me…'

She walked deeper into the warehouse - alert for any movement. But the only sound was the soft whisper of Angelus' delighted voice. 'That's it. Getting warmer … warmer. Warmer. You're smoking hot.'

She turned round - and there he was, right behind her. He smiled down at her, 'But then again, you probably knew that.' He looked over her shoulder, then - at something beyond her, something she hadn't seen. 'Honey, I bought a guest home for dinner.'

Faith turned to see who he was talking to - and out of the shadow walked a vision from a nightmare. Eight feet tall, with curved horns and skin that glowed as if rivers of lava flowed beneath it. This must be The Beast. Behind her, Angelus folded his arms and chuckled. 'Let's eat,' he said.


	52. Salvage: Part Four

_Part Four_

Faith stood between The Beast and Angelus, looking between them. It had been a long time since she had been in a big fight as a slayer … these odds were a bit higher than she wanted to start with. But as a slayer, she had no choice. You fought what was in front of you - and you won … or you died.

...

The Beast stared down at the human Angelus had brought into his lair - and then looked at the vampire, with annoyed confusion. 'What is this, Angelus?' he asked.

'This is a slayer,' Angelus told him. He grinned at Faith, 'say hi to the nice Beast, Faith.'

'You dare to bring a slayer, here?' The Beast asked - his annoyance turning into outrage. Angelus had been brought out to aid his master - the vampire was crucial to his master's plans … and now he was bringing warriors for good into their hideout? Endangering everything they were supposed to be working towards?

Angelus just shrugged, 'hey, I'm doing you a favour, Stonehenge.' He took a few steps forward, so he was level with Faith. 'She's here to seriously mess up you and your boss's plans. So, question is, what do you do about it, hotshot?'

There was a moment of silence - as The Beast turned away from Angelus to stare down at the slayer, once more. Faith took the opportunity to fire her crossbow - straight into the chest of the massive demon. Her aim was true, but the stony texture of his hide was too tough to penetrate. The bolt simply bounced off his chest, harmlessly.

Not one to be put off easily, Faith abandoned the weapon and went in for some hand to hand. She threw a punch but, as she moved into The Beast's space, it grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air.

'Smile, Faith,' Angelus said to her, as she dangled helplessly in The Beast's grip, 'I thought you'd enjoy a threesome.'

She balled her left fist - and then slammed her arm backwards, smashing into Angelus' face, before using the momentum to swing her arm forward again and this time hit The Beast. 'Sure,' she said, wriggling out of it's grasp, 'let's get it on.' She fell free, landing on her feet and immediately pivoted into a kick, which slammed into the Beast's chest. It was like kicking a cliff face - but she followed it up with another punch and a roundhouse kick.

Angelus folded his arms and smirked, as he watched the show. 'Watch yourself, big guy - the girl's on _fire_.'

She had her feet planted now and was punching as hard as she could, fast and furious - like she was working out on a punching bag. She hit high and low, landing a blow anywhere she could - using all her might to pound against The Beast's massive frame. It was not having any effect.

The Beast raised it's arm and with one mighty blow, sent the slayer flying ten feet through the air. She crashed through one of the crates - and landed on the floor, bruised, bleeding a little, and surrounded by the splinters of the broken box.

Angelus winced in mock sympathy, 'that's gonna sting in the morning.' She got back up and ran back at the demon - again throwing everything she had against him. He was big and his skin was like rock - but she could move faster - and she ducked and weaved, avoiding his hits whilst managing to land a few of her own.

But she was like a fly buzzing away at an elephant. With one back hand he downed her again - and when she struggled back to her feet he was ready to strike again. The Beast was gaining the upper hand now. With every blow he landed, Faith bled a little more, moved a little slower - made it a little easier for him to make the next hit. He kicked her to the ground and, when she tried to pull herself back up, stood a massive hoof on her; pinning her to the ground.

'Come on, Faithy,' Angelus said, 'you're not even trying.'

The Beast leaned down and picked Faith up - holding her off the ground once more. It stared into her bloodied and bruised face. She spat the blood from her mouth right into its eye. But, instead of letting her go, it raised her above its head and then body slammed her to the floor.

She cried out, as the pain jolted through her body - every muscle aching and screaming in agony, disobeying her as she tried to get back to her feet.

'Better get up,' Angelus warned - watching The Beast stride towards her. It then kicked her and she flew, once more, across the room - hitting the opposite wall. 'Someone ought to break this up,' Angelus said - enjoying every minute.

Unable to get back to her feet, Faith began to drag herself along the ground, helplessly trying to crawl away before The Beast could do more damage. Part of being a warrior was knowing when you were beaten - making sure you lived to fight another day. She was in too much pain, too weakened - and The Beast was too strong. She was not ready to fight him - yet. She shouldn't have gone out on the hunt so soon.

The Beast came towards her, it stood, towering above her- and gazed down at her, considering her. 'This is all you are?' it asked, 'I had heard the slayer possessed great strength. But there is no real power here.'

Faith whimpered in pain - and kept on dragging herself away.

'My master's power is beyond all limits,' The Beast told her, 'beyond your petty imagining. You are weak. You are nothing. You could not even defeat me.'

'Aint that the truth,' Angelus sauntered over to stand beside The Beast and grinned down at the injured slayer. 'I mean, look at this guy. Pretty much the only thing that could do damage to that thick, stony hide is … himself. Or, maybe, I don't know…' he pulled out the knife that was still stained with Kate's blood, '... a piece of himself.' He rammed the dagger of bone deep into The Beast's back - driving it as far between its shoulder blades as he could. The Beast roared out in agony - and tried to reach round and grab the blade, but it could not grasp it. Angelus just stood and grinned. Faith stared up, unable to move.

The wound began to glow a bright, blinding yellow. It blazed more and more vividly, more and more intensely. Faith had to look away - as it became too painful to look at. The light spread out from the wound - glowing beneath his skin - looking more than ever like rivers of lava running beneath the surface. And then it consumed The Beast, in a great fiery ball - and a beam shout upwards - out of his chest - burning through the ceiling and reaching towards the sky.

'I knew it! I knew it!' Angelus grinned - delighted with himself for figuring it out.

...

The beam of light shot straight up - reaching into the atmosphere. Still outside, fighting, Wes and Gunn stopped and looked as they saw the intense ray of shining yellow hit the black of the sky. And then, piece by piece, the black disc, which had shrouded the sun for so long, began to dissipate. Daylight began to shine through the darkness - in small slithers at first and then more and more until, finally, the full glare of the sun was returned to a now blue sky.

The three vampires they had been fighting screamed - caught flame and then turned to dust. The two men stared upwards, in wonder - and then Wes turned to look towards the warehouse, 'Faith,' he said.

...

Inside, The Beast's body had turned grey - like a burned out husk - and it crumbled to pieces, smashing on the floor, in front of Faith. She stared at its remains - too weak to do much else. Angelus, however, had just spotted what had happened outside. 'Aw, crap,' he cussed, 'you mean killing The Beast really does bring the sun back? I thought that was just Angel's idiotic fantasy.' He shook his head, 'ah, well, what you gonna do? Take the bad with the good, I always say. Anyway,' he started towards Faith, 'I just wanted Beastie Boy here to soften you up, I like my meat nice and tender.'

The slayer struggled to her feet - she was unsteady - but she held firm and grabbed hold of a large weight attached to a pulley. She held onto it to steady herself, for a moment, and then swung it, hard, towards Angel. It sailed towards him - but he sidestepped it, easily. 'Ooh, swing and a miss, slugger. Sorry, but …' The hook and chain crashed through the boarded up window and the sunlight flooded the room - blazing down onto Angelus - and onto Faith. He dove out of the way, crouching in the safety of the shadows, whilst she stayed hiding in the sunlight. He glared at her. 'Nice move, really. OK - well I guess we'll have to take a raincheck on that whole me eviscerating you thing. Just you and me now, Faithy.' He winked at her and began to walk away, into the darkness, 'catch you later.'

She stared after him, forcing herself to stay on her feet until after he had disappeared.

* * *

Fred, Lorne and Lilah stood out in the courtyard. Lorne had his arm wrapped around Fred and the pair of them were grinning upwards, staring at the sunshine. Lilah was a little apart from them - her smile was smaller, less jubilant but more … satisfied.

'Well ding dong The Beast is dead!' Lorne said. Fred grinned beside him, 'it's so beautiful!' she said, nodding towards the sun, 'the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my life. Do you think she fought him? Do you think everything's OK?'

'It must be,' the demon assured her, 'for the sun to be back like this - they must have found a way to bring him down. Next step - Angelus will be back here, hogtied and gagged, and we'll have the soul stuffed down in him in no time at all.'

'Well - that all sounds great,' Lilah said, smiling her shark's smile. 'But - this is my off ramp. Don't really care how you bring the white knight back to his armour - and not interested in giving the dark knight another chance to kill me. I'm off.' She began to walk out of the courtyard, towards the street.

'Where will you go?' Fred asked her. She turned back and raised an eyebrow. 'The Beast took out the whole L.A office of Wolfram and Hart - I've been in hiding so he couldn't track me. But the big rock is dead - and I can go home. That's all I wanted. And Wolfram and Hart …' she shrugged, 'they're in every major city in the world and they're pan dimensional. I think my contract with them is still good. With their medical package - I may even be able to find a doctor or shaman who can get this wound to stop bleeding.' She motioned to her injury with her left hand - and then waved it at them, 'hell - they got me a new hand, after all. See you around.' She walked away - and Fred and Lorne went back to just staring at the sun and smiling.

* * *

'Oh my God!' Doyle looked up, as he heard Cordy cry out from inside his old room. 'Doyle - quick - come look.' He got off the chair and burst through the door - worried about what had happened. He came to a stop. Cordelia had got out of the bed and was standing at the window - staring up the blue sky and the sunlight shining down. She was grinning. 'Look - Doyle, she must have done it. She got the sun back. It's a miracle. Look!'

He came over to join her at the window. They stood side by side, gazing upward into the miraculous light. 'Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your whole life?' she asked him, her voice was a hushed whisper of awe. He glanced sidewards, looking at her perfect profile, 'once or twice,' he said to her, smiling a little. She turned to look at him and caught his shy smile - and returned one of her own. 'Don't be silly,' she said to him, 'this is … I guess I take it back. Faith was a good idea, after all. Now we can start … putting things right.'

'Yeah… putting things right.'

'The way they're meant to be.'

'Yeah.'

They both turned and looked back out of the window again. Their hands brushed past each other, as they turned… there was a slight moment - a hesitation - and then their fingers intertwined. They stood side by side, holding hands; feeling the warmth of the sun's radiance greet them like an old friend, after all this time . 'This is all just so…' Cordelia broke off and winced, as the wound in her side twinged. Immediately, Doyle dropped his hand from hers and swept her into his arms, carrying her back over to the bed. 'I think I just overdid it with the excitement,' she said, apologetically. 'I'll be fine.'

'Of course you will - you just need to rest.' He stroked her hair, softly, and she didn't pull away. She leaned into his touch and smiled. 'Reheat my wheat bag?' she asked him.

'Anythin', princess.' He left her side, feeling that maybe - finally everything really could go back to the way it was supposed to be.

* * *

Kali stood at the window in Angel's room. Her arms were folded across her chest and there was a deep scowl on her face, as she stared out at the brilliant blue sky and the glare of the sun. She felt the Groosalug come and stand beside her. 'This is a great and wonderful thing, my lady,' he said to her.

'Yes - wonderful.'

'To return the sun to the heavens - after so much darkness and pain, truly - this warrior you told me of must be great and powerful, indeed.'

'Faith,' Kali said, her voice hard. 'A slayer.'

'Truly - a slayer must have goodness beyond all other champions. To succeed where others have failed.'

She turned to look at him - deliberately softening her face, as she gazed up into his eyes, making herself look scared and small and vulnerable. 'She is a killer,' she whispered, 'Doyle told me - this slayer, this warrior - is a killer of demons and of men. She does not discriminate. She kills for fun - for passion.' She made her voice tremble, as she spoke. 'The other humans - they locked her up because she is so dangerous. She is strong - stronger than any mortal man - she has power but no control. She cannot be controlled. And now the team have let her out.'

The Groosalug looked uncomfortable. 'They would not have done such a thing if they did not believe it was for the best,' he said to her.

She bit her lip and shook her head. Breaking eye contact, she cast her gaze down, fluttering her lashes, as she did. 'No. Don't you see? It's just like when they let out Angelus. They are reactionary. Terrified and unable to make good decisions - they keep unleashing whatever force they think can stop this evil. And then they have to unleash more and more powerful forces in an attempt to control what they have already done.' She looked up at him again, her eyes large and luminous with tears - her voice was a hushed, but urgent whisper. 'They don't know what is evil and what is good anymore,' she told him, 'they will do whatever it takes to stop this thing - side with whoever can help them - kill whoever gets in their way. And they no longer pay heed to who is on the side of good and who works for evil. Just as long as they get the result they want.'

The Groosalug's brow was lowering in consternation, as he listened to her. 'But you have no reason to fear, noble lady.'

She turned from him and wrapped her arms around herself, giving her an air of frail vulnerability. 'I have,' she said. He looked even more confused - and she twisted her head to look at him, from under her lashes. 'I'm … I'm carrying a child,' she said. 'It is Doyle's - His Majesty's…'

'His Majesty will be thrilled to know he has an heir,' The Groosalug told her, his voice soft - trying to cover his disappointment that this noble lady would now marry the King - just as her radiance had chosen the King, over Groo, back in Pylea. But Kali shook her head. 'No,' she said, 'he doesn't want to know - doesn't want anything to do with it.'

'I cannot believe His Majesty would not stand by his own child,' the Groosalug said in disbelief. Kali turned to look at him, properly. 'He loves Cordelia,' she said, simply, allowing her arms to drop to her side, once more. 'And he will do anything to be with her - he will kill anything that stands between their being together, he will destroy anything that gets in the way of their love - especially a demon child to another woman,' she finished, a little sadly.

'The others…'

She laughed - a small, mirthless laugh. 'The others are looking for someone or something to blame. They have lost all reason - and are striking out at anything they fear might be linked to this evil they are fighting. They are always looking for their next battle. And now they have brought a slayer right into our home.' She shook her head again and then looked back up at him, 'they will kill me and my baby, if they find out,' she said - her voice was quiet but forceful, and brooked no argument. 'They are not to be trusted.' She took a step towards him, and reached out to run her fingers through a strand of his long hair. She gazed, intently, into his eyes and he stared back down at her- his eyes full of love and trust - and so little understanding. 'Will you protect me?' she asked him, her voice wavered. 'Will you promise to protect me - and my baby - from their misplaced wrath?'

'I promise, noble lady,' he said to her, his voice earnest and sure. She smiled - a watery, grateful smile - and went up on tiptoes, leaning in to kiss him. 'This can be our little secret,' she murmured, as she brushed his lips with her own. 'This can be our little family - just as long as you promise to always protect me.' She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep and lingering kiss.

* * *

In the candle lit room - the blinds pulled shut - Lindsey had no idea the sun had returned, as he kept his silent, heart broken vigil. '_They're not going to kill him you know.' _He looked up. It was Kate's voice that had spoken - but she still lay on the bed, her eyes closed - peaceful, but for the bloody wound tearing her neck. He shook his head and squeezed her cooling hand.

'_Can't you see it?' _he heard her ask, '_the light - streaming in under the blinds? You know what it means.' _He felt something move past him. He looked up - and there she was, stood right next to him. Her skin was rosy, her neck was healed. He looked down - she still lay on the bed. '_Yeah - I'm only in your mind, my darling,' _she said to him, '_but that doesn't make what I'm saying any less true.' _She reached out and stroked his hair. '_You need to get away from here,' _she said.

'I can't leave you,' he replied - looking up into her living face, storing every curve, every dimple, every eyelash, to memory. She smiled, softly, and stroked his cheek, before turning to look at her own dead body. '_I'm dead, Lindsey, you can't do anything for me now, my darling. Not here.'_

'I need to watch…' he had trouble getting the words out, choking them past his own tears. 'You might have turned - I need to protect you …'

'_You know I've not been turned, sweetheart,' _she replied. '_You know there wasn't time - just like the others said.'_ She sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand - looking deep into his eyes, '_you're only pretending that's a possibility because you're not yet ready to let go.'_

'That's not true.'

She grinned, '_I'm a figment of your imagination,' _she pointed out, '_if I say it, it's because you believe it's true. Deep down.' _

'No.'

She gripped his hand tighter and leaned in towards him, still smiling. '_I'm dead, honey - and the dead don't speak. I'm far away - beyond all this. But you're still here - and you have a job to do. You need to get away from here.'_

'What…' he looked from Kate's living face down to her cold, dead one and then back again, 'what do I need to do?'

'_Lindsey, sweetheart, listen to me. The sun is back. The demon they said that took it - it must be dead. They found a way to kill it. It was meant to be impossible - but they did it. Which means they will find a way to save Angel, as well.'_

'We went out to kill him - not capture him, they know it's too late.'

'_Things are different now,' _she urged. '_The sun is back - the demon is dead. They can lock Angelus in a cage until they find a way to give him his soul back. And then they'll forgive him.' _She glanced across at her dead body. '_They'll forget all about me - and whoever else he might have killed, since he escaped - they will welcome him back with open arms and move on. They will never make Angel pay for what he did. To me. To everyone he's killed. He won't pay. He won't die. And, one day, Angelus will rise again and there will be more heartbroken lovers, right where you are, Lindsey.' _

There were tears in his eyes, as he listened to her words. He shook his head as if to clear it. 'What do I do?' he asked Kate.

'_Go far away - get away from Angel, for now. Leave the hotel, leave town - and stay away - until you've found a way to make him pay for what he did to me.' _

'You're telling me to go?'

'_I'm asking you to not let him get away with my murder. How can I rest easy…?' _she reached out and stroked his hair again, '_with you in this pain, and with my killer wandering free? - Free to love, free to watch his son grow up - free to live a life that he stole from me. From you. From us.'_

He nodded, slowly, understanding the truth of her words, 'OK,' he said, 'when…'

'_Right now.'_

He looked down, 'now,' he repeated - and when he looked up, living Kate was gone from the bed - and only her body lay there in eternal, silent rest. 'Now,' he said again. He picked up her cold hand and pressed it to his lips. 'Goodbye, my Katie,' he said to her, 'I love you. I'll always…' He trailed off and got to his feet. He leaned over her and brushed his warm lips against her own, cold ones - one final kiss goodbye. 'I'll make him pay,' he promised. 'I'll find a way to make him pay.' And with one last, lingering look at the still face of his girlfriend, he left the room and walked out of the hotel, into the sunshine and out into the world - unnoticed by any of the others.

* * *

**A/N next episode is 'Release'**


	53. Release: Part One

**Release**

_Part One_

Wesley opened the door to his apartment - he hadn't been back in days, weeks - maybe - he had been living out of the hotel since this whole thing had started, he had lost sight of when the last time he'd actually returned home was. The whole place was in darkness and had that abandoned feel of a place that had been empty for too long. 'Sit here,' he said.

Faith shuffled in behind him - stiff and painful, she scuffled her shoes forward, one tiny step at a time, and each step was an agony. She was cut and bruised and sore and exhausted. She hadn't taken a beating like this since … she wasn't sure she'd ever taken a beating like this. Maybe that night - on the roof. That night with B... Reminiscing was not improving her mood.

Wesley appeared beside her - an ice pack in his hand - and pushed her hair away from her face, gently, before pressing the pack against her jaw. 'Hold this.' She took it from him. 'I'll get bandages,' he told her - and walked towards the bathroom, headed for the medicine cabinet.

'No trauma,' she said to him, 'I'm good.'

He turned and looked back at her, surprised. 'You were nearly killed,' he pointed out. She shrugged it off - she didn't want to hear that. 'I could use a shower,' she said.

'Of course,' he gestured towards the bathroom door, and she walked past him, closing the door behind her.

...

She stared into the bathroom mirror. The damage looked as serious as it felt. No normal human could have possibly survived the pounding she had taken; even with slayer strength, slayer healing - there may be internal bleeding. Her jawline was bruised and swollen - she should maybe have held onto that ice pack. There was a wide gash across her forehead, and smaller cuts down the left side of her face. There was a shiner coming on, as well. Her lip was cut - and bleeding. She ran her tongue across her lower lip and tasted the blood, sticky and metallic. Her beaten face made her feel … she was too sore think about how she felt, right now. She just needed to get into the shower - under the hot spray - that would take the sting out of all this. The sting of defeat.

She took off her boots and then slipped the shirt from her back. Bruises were already coming out against her pale skin; black and red and sickly yellow. There were cuts too - deep gouges and scrapes - down her arms, across her abdomen … They stood out red raw against the white. She took off her bra, carefully, painfully, and then unbuckled her belt and let her jeans drop to the floor.

When she stepped into the shower, she switched on only the hot water knob and stood back, as she let the steam slowly build and gather around her - hoping it would soothe away some of the aches. Her whole body felt tender; her muscles felt heavy and tired, her bones were weary. The bruises were sore and the cuts and scrapes were stinging, furiously. This kind of all over pain - it was familiar, though the memory was distant. She tried not to think about it.

She leaned towards the water, tentatively - pushing her face forward, so it was the only part of her that got hit by the spray. She turned her face from side to side - feeling the jets against her skin like a gentle kiss. The blood from her cuts began to run - and it streamed down her body in watery, red, rivulets. She pushed her hair from her face, slicking it back - letting the water reach the very sides and edges of her jaw and temples. It hurt, just the effort of raising her arms to push back her hair made her muscles scream. And the weariness - just standing here, letting the water wash over her - even that was too much.

She stared through the steam, as it built up around her - her eyes glazed and unfocused … unable to work up the energy to even wash the rest of her bloody and battered body. She couldn't push it back - the memory. The last time her body had taken such brutal punishment. It was so long ago - now - a different life time - when she was a different person. So angry and afraid - rushing headlong down a path of darkness, of evil - because - hell, why not? The world had screwed her so why not screw it back, some? Pay back - for everything she'd suffered.

As her whole body ached - she remembered the last time, that showdown with B. On the roof. The grudge match to the death … only she hadn't died. She had flown through the air, tumbled downwards, landing on the truck bed … and woken up 8 months later; terrified and alone, wanted for murder - and every inch of her aching - just like now.

Angel had saved her. From herself. He had helped her find peace - she thought she was working towards redemption. But now - when he had needed her - she had failed, failed him, almost died in the process. And the aches and the weariness just reminded her - more closely than she had ever felt it these past three years - of who she was, at heart. The screw up slayer. The failure. The chosen one who let her watcher die, who ran from Kakistos, who missed the mark - out on patrol - and murdered the deputy mayor - and who had let herself fall into the darkness. That's who she was tonight. A screw up. A failure. A killer. A disappointment. A monster. No wonder B had always …

Her fist lashed out and she punched the wall in front of her - cracking the tile. Her knuckles stung and that just drove the madness and desperation even further. She punched again - and then again - more and more rapidly, with both fists. And she started to scream, as she did - one long bellow of pain - pent up anger and disappointment and feelings of failure all coming out in the scream. The tiles cracked and then began to fall away from the wall - smashing to the floor - and she punched through the plaster, beneath.

And then it was over. Her hands dropped. She took a few deep, ragged breaths - composing herself. She pushed the hair from her face back, again, and closed her eyes. Finally she stepped fully under the shower spray. She had this. She wasn't dead. She had lived. Lived to fight again. The first rule of being the slayer was 'don't die'. B had told her that - long ago. And she hadn't died. And, next time, she would be ready. Next time she wouldn't screw up - wouldn't fail. She had this.

* * *

Angelus sat in a bar, surrounded by admirers. He was at a table with a few vamps - but he could feel the eyes of all the other vampires on him, not quite believing they were so close to the Angelus of legend. They were small time - schmoes and losers that any halfway decent vampire hunter could take out without breaking a sweat. Most of them were probably less than twenty years old. Not the calibre of the vampires he used to hang around - but, still, it was nice to have his ego stroked. And they didn't push back like Spike - or Darla. They just looked on in quiet awe - and that was good for now. When he got bored of the admiration … he'd kill them all. But for now - he was delighting in holding court.

'I couldn't believe how easy it was to lure the slayer into my welcome home from prison party,' he told the group.

'I wish I could have been there when she saw The Beast,' one of the lackeys said. Angelus smirked, 'the guy wasn't gonna win any personality contests, but he put on a good show. Slapped her around real nice.'

'Like a little bunny?' another vampire asked, eagerly.

'A bloody, whimpering bunny,' Angelus answered - smiling at the memory. Everyone laughed out loud. 'Once she was tenderised,' he continued, 'I gave Rocko the shaft. Never saw it coming, dumb ass.'

'Yeah, soul boy,' a demon, sitting at the bar with his back to the vampires, muttered, 'nice job, bringing the sun back.'

The vampires surrounding Angelus froze in fear, wondering what the hell this legendary vampire would do - how he would react … to having his mistake at bringing back the sun brought up … at hearing Angel mentioned …

But Angelus just grinned round at them and got off his stool, sauntering over to the bar. The demon turned to look at him, 'oh, hey, Angelus,' he said - his voice a nervous squeak, now they were face to face, 'can I buy you a warm one?'

Angelus put his hand on the demon's shoulder and smiled, 'maybe after,' he said.

'After what?'

With a blur of speed, Angelus' hand was suddenly wrapped tightly around the demon's throat. 'After I rip out your windpipe so it stops making that annoying talky sound.'

'Wait!' the demon choked out, 'I have a condition. Whoop! Go boy! Dirty bitch! Tourettes … you've heard of it.'

Angelus nodded slowly, 'yeah, causes uncontrollable impulses,' he squeezed harder, 'like yanking out throats.'

The demon began to cough, choking on his own panic and squirming under Angelus' grip. Angelus suddenly went still.** '_Hello, Angelus, it's time we had that talk,' _**a mysterious voice boomed inside his head.

* * *

Cordelia looked up - as there was a knock on the door, followed by Doyle's head poking round. 'Can I come in?'

'Sure,' she struggled to sit upright. Doyle came inside and closed the door behind him. He was carrying a cup of herbal tea in his hands. 'Did the authorities come and get Kate?' Cordelia asked him. He nodded, 'yeah - they left about an hour ago - I signed the paperwork … Lindsey has gone.'

'Where'd he go?'

'I'm not sure.' There was a moment of silence, as they both contemplated the loss and the heartbreak - and how the world would now move on, without Kate. Doyle swallowed - feeling guilt at how relieved he was that it wasn't Cordy who had been Angelus' victim; who had just been taken away by the city morgue, on a stretcher.

'The sun went away,' Cordelia said to him, nodding to the window, where it was dark outside, once more.

'It'll be back in the morning, though, I promise,' he replied, forcing his mind away from Kate and sitting down on the edge of the bed, 'I brought you this,' he said - handing the tea over to her, 'thought it might help you rest…'

She took it from him, gratefully, and held its warmth close. It was ginger and lemon - just what she had been craving. She smiled at him, 'thank you,' she said, 'for being so good to me. You don't have to be, you know.'

He shuffled and looked awkward, rubbing the back of his neck before he replied to her. 'I love you, Cordelia,' he mumbled, 'you know I'd do anything for you.'

She took a sip of her tea and felt it soothe her right the way down to her toes. Then she peered at him over the rim of the cup, 'that's not how it's been lately,' she pointed out. 'For a while now - it seemed like you didn't care at all…' she blushed, 'not that I expect you to care,' she added, hastily, '_I_ broke up with _you_ … you don't owe me ... but there's been a definite shift in your behaviour.'

Doyle looked confused, 'I don't understand,' he said to her, 'what do you mean?'

'You know…' she took another sip of tea and tried to make her voice casual - like his recent distance hadn't hurt her. 'These past few weeks, you've been so concerned with protecting Kali - making sure that she was OK. She was your priority - not me - you said as much … and now … you're back to …' she cut herself off before she said 'normal'. She didn't have a right to expect Doyle to only love and care for her, not when she had chosen to end things and told him to get lost. She couldn't get in a snit when he took her at her word and got lost … moved on …

'Why would Kali ever be my priority?' Doyle was looking genuinely confused.

'Well, she was handed to you by The Powers to look after. She's somehow pretty important in all this stuff that's going on … though now The Beast's dead I don't know where that leaves her.'

Doyle was frowning, 'that makes Kali my job - not my priority. I'd never protect her over you.'

'Well, you did.' She looked at the blank expression on his face, 'I guess all that happened during the part you're now missing, huh?' she realised, 'I'm talking to you about the stuff affected by your memory loss.'

He nodded. 'I got no memory from since before we did that spell … to get your memory back. Seems like amnesia's been goin' around. We did the spell and then the next thing I know - bam, I'm waking up to a vision and the sun's gone.' He looked thoughtful, 'I've tried to figure out what happened in between but … there's just a blank. It's like I wasn't there.'

Cordelia struggled to sit further up - and fixed him with a stern gaze. 'Don't you think maybe it's time we started worrying about that?' she asked. 'I mean, back when the sun was gone and The Beast was on the rampage and Angelus was in the basement, we had bigger things to be thinking about then a spot of memory loss. But now…'

'The sun's back, The Beast's dead and Faith is on Angelus' case,' Doyle finished up.

Cordelia nodded, 'exactly - we have time to think about this, now; worry about it.' She took another sip of her tea - and scanned him up and down. He looked fine - but something was wrong - and she didn't like that. 'Memory loss can't be good,' she told him, 'missing days are never a good sign. And you were acting out of character the whole time - I should have said something but … whenever I tried, you shut me down. You might be sick!'

'I don't think I'm sick,' he assured her.

'I'm serious,' she said, 'it could be a brain tumour pressing on your ...brain - making you forget things and act all weird.'

'It could be … but, statistically, it's more likely to be something mystical, yeah?'

'Maybe it's brain damage from the visions!' she looked alarmed. But Doyle shook his head, 'my demon half protects me from that,' he said, 'I don't get damage.'

'How would you know?'

'Well - I've had 'em for years and I'm fine,' he pointed out, reasonably.

_'Apart from the amnesia!'_ she yelled - exasperated. He began to chuckle - and she looked annoyed, so he reigned it in and fought to make his face serious again. 'Don't laugh, Doyle,' she admonished, 'I'm worried about you.'

That one sentence made him feel happier than he had since May. Since before Connor was taken, even. She still cared … though he didn't want her to be worried.

'OK, maybe you're not sick,' she was saying. She pushed her hair from her face and sighed, 'though I'm not ruling it out - no matter what you say - but what if it is mystical? What if … I dunno … The Powers took your memory for some reason… or...'

Doyle looked up at her - alarmed - as a horrible realisation dawned on him. 'What?' she asked.

'Not The Powers,' he said to her, 'but - what if The Beastmaster took my memory? We know it can do that - it took all mention of The Beast outta the books, and wiped Angel's mind, as well. Maybe I knew something. Maybe I know something. So it took my memory.'

Cordelia bit her lip. 'Maybe you should get Lorne to read you, again,' she suggested.

* * *

Angelus kept his hand gripped around the demon's throat - but he looked up, towards the ceiling - and then glanced around, his eyes darting around the room as he tried to search out the source of the new voice. 'Where are you?' he asked the voice in his head.

The demon in his grasp didn't understand, thought the vampire was still talking to him, 'wherever you want me to be, buddy,' he rasped out.

**'_I'm where it's warm and soft,' _**the disembodied voice replied. Angelus dropped his hold on the demon, who breathed a huge sigh of relief - and then looked on uncomfortably as the vampire began to prowl the bar, seemingly talking to himself. 'Hide and seek, huh?' Angelus was saying to the thin air, 'OK - I'll play.'

All the demons and vampires in the bar were looking at each other in confusion and embarrassment - as this legendary vampire seemed to lose his mind, right in front of them.

**_'Playtime's over,' _**the voice said, **'_you've been a bad boy, killed my favourite pet.'_**

'Thought that might get your attention,' Angelus replied - and then , as he looked around, he realised everyone in the bar was staring at him_. _

**'_Initiative, I like that. But you needn't have bothered.' _**

Still feeling the eyes of the confused demons on him, Angelus left the bar and made his way into a dark backroom, hoping for a little privacy as he continued this conversation with a voice that wasn't there. **'_I've had my eyes on you for sometime.'_**

_..._

The backroom wasn't empty - more's the pity - there were a few vampires feeding off humans - and a couple of other people shooting up, getting high. One drugged girl stumbled to her feet and wrapped her arms around Angel, 'hey baby, how about a kiss?' He pushed her away and spoke to the voice, once again. 'You like to watch, huh?'

**'_One of the many things we have in common.' _**

'Oh - I don't know about that,' Angelus replied, 'I'm more of a hands on guy.' He grabbed the vampire, feeding on a woman, and kicked him out of the room - wanting to be alone, in this conversation - the drug addled and drained humans didn't count; they were totally out of it. Once witnesses that mattered were evicted, he spoke to the voice once more. 'OK, come on, you got a pair? Or is the wind you're blowing up my tail pipe all you can muster? Hey, here's a kooky idea, now that I've killed your pet rock - how about a little face to face, huh? Assuming that you have one?'

...

'Don't worry,' Kali sat on Angel's bed - back at the Hyperion - her eyes were a milky white. She spoke in her normal voice - but the orange crystal that glowed in the palm of her hand disguised it - inside Angelus' head - so he was hearing the deep, booming voice of a man. 'We'll meet when you're ready.'

_..._

'Come on, why the stalling?' Angelus asked. 'You whipped up a rain of fire, blotted out the sun, earthquakes...all to manoeuvre the Brady Bunch into releasing Angel's inner me. Don't you wanna kick the tires?'

**'_So beautifully vain,'_** the voice came back. **'_But the whirlwind doesn't always revolve around you. Destruction, sometimes, is it's own reward.' _**

'Hey man, you're preaching to the guy who ate the choir.' A thought suddenly struck him, 'wait - it was you, wasn't it? You pulled just the wrong strings, enough to make them think it was their idea. Got them to yank that white, fluffy soul, stuff it in a jar and then gone baby gone.'

...

Kali smiled. 'Not quite. It was The Powers that sent the half breed the vision of you and The Beast, hoping to be helpful, hoping to circumvent my removing all traces and knowledge of The Beast, in this dimension … but I must admit, once the idea was out there I could see wonderful potential in such an idea… I could hardly risk letting them put that soul back, when I had you right where I wanted you - how I wanted you… And the Powers just watching as their chosen champion rains down bloody slaughter against those he was supposed to help. Delicious. Too delicious to waste. I have such wonderful plans for you, my sweet boy.'

_..._

'Um, yeah,' Angelus said, 'but as far as plans go - I make my own. So, you know, thanks for stopping by my head.' He turned and began to walk away - back towards the bar. **'_You would dare defy me?'_ **the voice boomed. Angelus came to a stop and looked around him, deeply irritated. 'Defy who?' he yelled. 'A big scary voice? Whoa! Hey! I got one of those myself - you wanna hear it?' He cupped his hands around his mouth to make an echo, 'You can kiss my vampire ass!' he shouted. His hands came down and he looked around again, 'that do anything for ya?'

...

There was a knock on the bedroom door, which was immediately followed by the Groosalug opening it and entering - a big, dopey grin on his handsome, vacant face. Kali closed her hands around the crystal, hiding it from view and shut her eyes. When they opened again they were back to her normal electric pink.

'I brought you a blanket, my lady,' the Groosalug told her, 'it is important that a woman with child keep warm.'

She forced a grateful smile onto her face, hiding her irritation at being interrupted by the big, dumb lunk. It wasn't him she was trying to use, right now. And yet here he was - like the big, dumb puppy he was.

He must have noticed something, as his brow drew together into a frown, 'is there something the matter, lady?' he asked.

She fluttered her eyelashes and looked feeble, 'just feeling a little woozy, I guess,' she said - in a small, sickly voice. She took the blanket from him and draped it across herself, 'the baby,' she explained, 'his Majesty's baby - it's growing so fast … it takes a lot out of me. Makes its presence felt. I guess it's just its way of saying...'

...

'Hello?' Angelus yelled - looking all around him, in confusion - as the voice just abandoned him, abruptly. He stalked around the room, yelling at the ceiling. 'Hey, I got places to go, friends to kill… well, not actually my friends, but you got the idea. You got any more bluster you wanna blow up there?' There was a resounding silence in reply. 'That's what I thought.'

* * *

Fred, Gunn and Lorne were down in the lobby. Gunn was fixing three tranq guns and handing them to the others - preparing for if Angelus dropped by for another visit. Fred frowned down at the dart loaded gun, in her hand. 'You don't think Angelus is planning a repeat performance, do you?' she asked the others. 'I - I mean, he's gotta know we'd be prepared.'

'Doesn't mean we drop our guard,' Gunn told her. 'If he pops a fang in here, thwack him where it hurts.'

'Yeah - good night not so sweet prince,' Lorne added, taking his own gun, a little distastefully. The only shots he was good at involved tequila.

'Right, I'm gonna recheck downstairs,' Gunn said, 'make sure he can't creep in using any of the sewer tunnels.'

Fred nodded, 'yeah … if Lilah managed to break and enter…' there was a sudden noise on the stair and, startled, she cut herself of and whipped around - pointing her tranq gun at the source of the disturbance … which turned out to be Doyle.

He held his hands up, as he came down the last few steps, 'I come in peace,' he said to her, smiling. She lowered the gun, 'Sorry I…'

'No problem, darlin' - we're all jumpy.'

'How's Cordy doin'?' Gunn asked him. Doyle nodded, 'yeah - she's OK - I guess. She'll live.'

'Maybe I should check on her?' Fred suggested and the Irishman shrugged, 'she certainly won't hate people stoppin' by to say hello. But keep it brief, yeah? I just gave her a herbal tea - I'm hopin' she'll get some sleep. She'll heal quicker if she's restin' properly.'

'So what tears you away from fair Cordelia's side?' Lorne asked him. The Irishman suddenly looked awkward and shuffled his feet. 'Well…' he took a deep breath, 'me and Cordy were talkin' … about how I got a bit of memory loss - just a bit, mind you - but that I got nothin' on the whole time The Beast was rampagin' around, pretty much. I keep hearin' about the rain o' fire, the attack on Wolfram and Hart and … nothin' - it's like I wasn't even there.' He shifted his weight, again, 'Cordy reckons that - now the sun is back - maybe it's time to worry about that. I was thinkin'…' he took another deep breath, 'I was thinkin maybe The Beast's boss wiped my mind - like it did with Angel and the books - Cordy says … well, she says you should read me, Lorne. If y' don't mind that is.'

'No problemo, little buddy - blast me with them pipes. What will you be favouring us with this evening?'

'Uhm… I kinda got the macarena stuck in my head,' Doyle admitted, a little shamefaced, '- but I don't know the words, 'cause I don't speak Spanish.'

'Just hum the tune - I'll pick up the highlights.'

Doyle cleared his throat - and tried not to look at Fred and Gunn - before launching into the tune. '_Duh duh de duh duh de duh duh de macarena duh duh de duh duh de duh duh de cosa buena duh duh de duh duh de duh duh de macarena - hey macarena!'_ He looked at Lorne, expectantly, but the green demon was frowning. 'What?' Doyle asked, 'is it bad?'

'I don't know,' Lorne said, tilting his head this way and that as if trying to focus. 'I can't seem to get a read - can you try something that you do know the words to?'

'OK - uhm - uhm…' immediately his mind went blank of absolutely any songs, 'uhm - OK - no … wait a minute … uhm - OK - _Don't stop me now, I'm havin' such a good time - I'm havin' a ball, Don't stop me now, If you wanna have a good time - gimme a call. Don't stop me - 'cause I'm havin' a good time… don't stop me…' _

'I'm gonna stop you there, stud muffin,' Lorne interrupted. Doyle looked relieved - as did Fred and Gunn - though they strove to keep their faces impassive. 'Well - what did y' see?' The Irishman asked, anxiously, 'please tell me I don't have to crack on with all o' Queen's greatest hits?'

'No…' Lorne said slowly, his eyes narrowed, 'I don't think even a full, 6 minute rendition of Bo-rhap complete with humming the guitar solo would help us, here.'

'It's that bad?' Doyle looked even more anxious.

'It's... nothing. I'm not getting anything from you at all - worry about Cordy, though you might as well have that on flashcards, but … what you're missing, why it's gone - I can't seem to get anything. If there's anything there … it's beyond me.'

'Is that a good thing?' Fred asked, her forehead wrinkled into a frown. But Lorne only shrugged.

'Well, I guess … if you got nothin' - I better get back to Cordy,' Doyle said, he looked disappointed and - as he climbed the stairs, again - his shoulders were slumped.

'I guess he was hoping for somethin' a bit more,' Gunn said - watching him go, 'must be weird - missing a whole chunk of time and not having an explanation.'

'I hate to let him down,' Lorne sighed, 'I guess I was his last hope for finding out what was going on.'

'Speaking of last hopes,' Fred said, looking between the others, 'what are we gonna do about Angelus? Faith was meant to be our best chance of getting Angel back … but, Charles, you said she got demolished out there. What do we do if she's not up to it?' But the men had no answer to that.

* * *

Wesley was in his living room, packing up a case of vials and needles - when they got Angelus back to the hotel they were going to need to keep him sedated until they could find a way to return his soul. The British man intended to make sure that they were prepared - for however long that may take.

The bathroom door creaked open and Faith came out, showered and dressed. 'Squeaky clean,' she said to him, 'let's blow.' He looked up at her - holding her gaze for a long moment. His staring got to her, she shrugged, 'right. Uh. sorry about your bathroom.' He still continued to stare. She balled her fist and slapped it into the palm of her other hand, 'come on, let's do it.'

Wesley got to his feet, 'I'm not worried about the bathroom,' he said. 'Although I'm fairly sure my security deposit's a complete loss. I need to know you're in the game, Faith, all the way.'

She looked him dead in the eye, 'five by five, boss.'

* * *

Fred was alone in the office - trying to get a little research done. All their papers and findings - from Lilah's copy of Rheinhardt, to their reading on the Svear and their banishment spell, their findings on the Ra-tet and any other instances they could find of rains of fire, or creatures which had the power to wipe clean texts and minds - were spread out across the desk. It was all a mess, though. They knew … they knew very little, truth be told. But Fred was hopeful she might make a break through - even if Wesley wasn't around to help. 'If I were a runic transcription guide…' she muttered to herself, scanning the book shelf, 'I would be … shelved wrong.' she located it, in the wrong place, and pulled it out.

'Talking to yourself, Fred?'

She whirled around. Angelus was in the doorway, leaning on the door-frame - looking at her like she was a deer in the crosshairs. She pressed herself against the bookshelf. 'You can't hurt me,' she told him - trying to keep the tremble of fear from her voice. 'We did a no-demon violence thingy.'

'Ah - the sanctuary spell,' he grinned. 'Shucks. Oh, wait a minute. I think…' he took a few steps towards her and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a mystical looking talisman. 'Oh, yeah, kinda thought you pesky P.I.'s would be humming that old tune, so I picked up a little something-something... lets me be as demony as I wanna be.'

She glanced at the trinket and then back up at him, 'I don't believe you,' she said - though her heart was hammering in her chest and she knew that he must be able to sense it. He was right in front of her now - she was holding her breath - he took the book from her hand and stepped closer so she was pinned right against the wall. Then he slammed the book, as hard as he could, into the wall beside her head. She jumped. 'How about now?' he asked.

'What do you want?'

'Maybe I just miss you…' he then pulled away from her, 'but now you bring it up - let's talk Beastmaster - what have you got?'

She shook her head, 'nothing.'

'Come on, Fred,' he turned away from her and began to look at all the papers scattered across the desk. 'All this raw material, a brainiac like you, you must have a theory.'

'If I did, you'd be the last person I'd tell.'

'Well, alright then, I guess I'll figure it out myself.' He began to pick up some of the papers, skimming over them before pocketing them. 'I'll take this … and this … thanks for nothing.'

'I do know one thing,' she took a step towards him. She was afraid - and she didn't want to be - and that made her angry. She wanted Angelus to feel that anger - to know she wasn't quaking at the mere thought of him, that she could stand up to him, even if she couldn't beat him. 'You're out of your league. What you're up against—he'll make you its bitch, just like The Beast. So, if you're gonna kill me, get it over with.' She was right in front of him, now - almost pressed up against him as she tried to make him feel her fury and disdain - and prove she wasn't afraid. From this close … she could see the trinket more clearly. 'Made in China?' she read. They looked at each other, for a moment - as she realised what that meant - and he watched her work it out. And then, she grabbed the water pitcher and smashed it over his head. As he stumbled back, she grabbed her tranq gun and shot at him. But he ducked - and the dart passed over his head and buried itself in the wall. He rolled across the floor, towards the door, got back to his feet and ran out of the office. She chased after him - gun aimed and loaded…

* * *

'So Lorne couldn't help?' Cordelia asked. Doyle had gone back to her to report his lack of progress. He shook his head, 'he couldn't see anythin' - can't tell me if that's a good or a bad thing - or if it doesn't mean anythin' at all. Maybe I just hit my head … or drank myself into oblivion…'

'Maybe…' she was frowning. 'But I'd still feel better if we knew for sure.'

'Well - there might be another way,' he said slowly. She looked at him - and he took a deep breath and began to explain. 'There's a guy I know - Maury - a warlock. I've helped him out once or twice - he's helped me out once or twice … I think we're even, right now, but I can afford to owe him - he isn't dangerous.'

'What would he do?'

'I don't really know - but he's got the magicks on his side. He might have a memory spell, or a truth spell or be able to go inside my mind and take a look…' He noted Cordelia look sceptical. 'Hey,' he said, 'this is the guy that managed to teleport me into that vault at the auction house - he's pretty powerful.'

'And you think he'd help you?'

'Can't hurt to ask.'

They both stiffened as they heard a loud crashing sound, downstairs. 'What was that?' Cordelia asked. Doyle shook his head, 'I'll go check … you still got that axe?' Once he was sure Cordelia was armed - he got up to go and look.

* * *

Fred ran through into the lobby. She fired the tranq gun again - but she shot just as Angelus was running past a startled looking Lorne - and only succeeded in hitting the green demon. He immediately passed out. 'Lorne!' Fred cried in dismay.

Angelus chuckled and then leapt up to the balcony in one, smooth jump. He landed on the landing and grinned down at her. She fired again - but this time he blocked the dart with the book he had stolen from her. 'Can't beat a good book,' he grinned. She pulled the trigger, once more, but the chamber was empty. Her darts were spent. 'Too bad,' the vampire laughed, 'I was just starting to have fun.'

A door, further down the landing, opened - and Doyle appeared. He took one look at the vampire - standing so close to where Cordelia was resting - and immediately morphed into his demon spikes and ran at Angelus, snarling.

'Doyle, No!' Fred shouted at him from down in the lobby. But it was too late. As the half demon launched himself at Angelus, he collided with the anti-demon violence forcefield - which knocked him backwards and sent him flying over the balcony. He landed on the floor - with a thump - and passed out beside Lorne.


	54. Release: Part Two

_Part Two_

Fred was on her knees, down beside the unconscious Doyle. Grinning, Angelus jumped back down from the balcony. He landed beside the group and Fred stared up at him, fearfully. He pulled the tranq dart out of the book and held it up, 'nice try Fred, you think about how close you came to stopping me when I'm slaughtering all your friends,' then he turned and strolled out of the lobby.

* * *

Faith and Wesley turned off the street and into the courtyard garden. 'We track him,' Faith was saying, 'we find him, we…'

'Get our asses kicked?' Angelus came out of the door and walked towards them, 'I dunno - wild guess.'

Immediately, Faith snapped her leg out and kicked Angelus square in the chest. But he kept his balance and threw a punch. Faith responded in kind. They ducked and dived, moving around each other getting in a lucky punch or kick every now and again. Wesley tried to aim his dart gun at the vampire, but the fighting pair moved too fast - and he was unable to get a clear shot without endangering Faith.

With a swift movement, Angelus managed to get behind the slayer and then threw her onto Wesley. The pair of them tumbled to the ground - and the gun flew out of Wesley's hand and landed in the bushes. Angelus then grabbed the now unarmed Wesley, yanking him back to his feet and holding him by the throat - so that the watcher was in between him and Faith. He stared at her, 'sucky spell, huh?' he said, 'you'd at least think it would go to the sidewalk.'

Wesley's face was turning red from lack of oxygen. 'Let him go,' Faith said, her fists raised ready for combat, 'this is between you and me.'

'It's never just between you and me, Faith,' Angelus snarled - still gripping Wesley, who was turning from red to purple, 'Wes'll always be in the middle.' The slayer looked between the two men - from Wesley's rapidly darkening face to Angelus' snarling one. 'That's it,' he said to her, 'do the math. Can you get to me before I snap his neck?' He squeezed tighter. 'You still that fast? Wes is just dying to find out, aren't you Wes?'

Faith didn't move. 'Do it,' Wesley rasped out - but she stayed still.

'That's it, come on, do it,' Angelus taunted. 'Take your shot and save the world, come on. What are you waiting for? It's all about choices, Faith. The ones we make - and the ones we don't. Oh and the consequences. Those are always fun.' He squeezed Wesley's throat again, 'don't worry about good ol' Wes. What's one more body to us? Come on, where's my girl?'

But Faith was saved from her moment of frozen indecision by Gunn running through the doors, 'Faith,' he yelled, throwing her a tranq gun and then pointing his own at Angelus. Angelus dropped Wesley and ran out of the courtyard, Gunn ran after him. Faith went to Wesley's side. He was gasping heavily, but had no time for her concern, 'go!' he commanded and she left him and followed Gunn.

But when she got out onto the road, it was already too late. 'He's gone,' Gunn told her - she looked all around, but he was right, the street was empty - Angelus had got away.

* * *

When Wesley and Gunn came back inside the lobby, it was to find Cordelia downstairs - tending to the newly conscious Doyle. 'I'm OK, Cordelia,' he was saying, as she fussed around him with ice packs and cold compresses, 'you shouldn't be out of bed - you're hurt way worse than me.'

'And, in an ideal world, bed is exactly where I'd be, Doyle - but in _this_ world, you just got yourself thrown off the balcony and smashed your head on the floor. I'm not taking any chances - here, let me see…' she pulled his head towards her and started peering into his face. 'What on earth are y' doin'?' he asked her.

'Checking your pupils - track this,' she traced her finger through the air - his eyes followed it around. 'I think you'll survive,' she pronounced, 'but if you start getting a headache or feeling sick you tell me, right away, You understand?' She stared at him so fiercely that he could only nod, meekly, in agreement. 'I don't think you're concussed, but it's still a risk.'

'I'm fine, Cordelia.'

She just tutted in response. She looked up as the two men came into the lobby, noting their expressions of weary defeat, 'what's up?' she asked them.

'Angelus got away,' Gunn shrugged, 'got past Faith.'

'Where is she?'

The street fighter nodded out towards the courtyard, where the slayer was stood, alone, her arms wrapped around herself. 'I think she's cussin' herself out for letting him by - she's going hard on herself,' he said.

Wesley slammed his tranq gun down oi the counter, hard - everyone looked at him. 'It's no good,' he said - his voice was harsh, annoyed. 'What was he doing here, in the first place?'

'He - he came for answers. He was asking about The Beastmaster,' Fred told him, 'he took … he took some stuff, that we had. He took it with him.'

'How much?' Wes asked sharply.

There was an awkward pause and then, 'all of it,' Fred admitted, in a frightened squeak.

'Damnit!' Wesley slammed his fist down on the counter top, thumping it with all his strength, making the tranq gun bounce on the desk, with the force of it. Fred looked alarmed, 'this isn't good enough!' he said.

'Hey!' Cordelia shouted, from down on the ground where she was still tending to Doyle, 'calm down, Wes, getting mad and yelling at each other solves nothing. We knew, when we took away his soul, how dangerous - and how clever - Angelus is. We knew the risk. Now we just gotta deal with it, without falling apart.' She looked back down at Doyle, and reached out, stroking his face - just for the briefest moment, 'are you sure you're OK?' she asked. He nodded, looking like he wasn't quite sure whether he had imagined her touch, or not. 'Then I need you to go upstairs, check on Connor,' she told him, 'make sure they're all OK up there - that Angelus didn't get to them … fill Kali in on what's happening.' Then she sighed, deeply, 'I guess I'll go and talk to Faith,' she said - looking again at where the rogue slayer stood alone in the garden, 'tell her that this isn't her fault - and we appreciate her efforts. Much as I don't want to. Someone's got to give that girl a pep talk - and I don't think Mr. hand slammy former watcher is the person to do it.'

'No one gives pep talks like you, princess.'

'Damn skippy.'

Doyle smiled - but looked a little worried, 'just remember she has homicidal tendencies, yeah, before you go in with the full blunt force of your - uh - charm.'

* * *

Doyle knocked on the door and then pushed it open. Kali was sat on the couch, her feet across the cushions - a blanket was draped across her. The Groosalug was sat on the floor, beside her. Connor was in his playpen. 'Hey,' the Irishman said to them, 'is everyone OK in here? How's Connor doin'?'

'Connor's fine,' Kali replied, shortly. The Groosalug gave a stiff nod of his head, 'indeed - we are taking care of the vampire's child, as requested by Your Majesty.' Then he turned back to Kali - and his voice immediately became much softer, 'can I fetch anything more for you most Noble Lady, a blanket? A cup of Mock-na? Of course there is no plockweed in this dimension - but I could use creeping fig and sour cress, from the garden. It would soothe away tension - help My Lady to relax.'

'I'm alright, Groo, thank you,' her voice had also softened, when she spoke to the Groosalug. She looked up at Doyle, again. 'Is everything OK?' she asked, 'why are you here?' Her tone was hard again. Doyle frowned to himself. There was something … off about them. They were being standoffish - to him. Not to each other. He looked at the adoring way the Groosalug looked up at Kali. Maybe they were just falling for each other - all this time in a confined space, it was better than being at each other's throats - and they were annoyed that Doyle had interrupted their cosy little love nest. Maybe that was it.

'Angelus was here,' he told them, 'I wanted to check that he hadn't come near you guys - near Connor. That everythin' was OK'

'Everything's fine,' Kali told him, 'what happened?' Her brow was lowered - her tone had become even sharper, as she questioned him.

'He caught Fred alone in the office,' Doyle explained, 'used a fake charm to make her think he could counteract the sanctuary spell - it worked long enough for him to grab everythin' we had on The Beastmaster and then - take off. He got past Wes and Faith, on the way out.'

'That son of a bitch,' Kali shook her head, sounding furious.

Doyle frowned, 'yeah, well - he has Lilah's book - her out of world copy of Reinhardt's, as well as all the stuff we got from the Svea priestesses. He's up to somethin' - and whatever it is, it won't be good. We're just lucky no one got hurt this time.'

'The sanctuary spell held up?' Kali asked.

Doyle nodded, ruefully, and rubbed the back of his head where he had hit it. 'Yep. We can quite safely say that the no demon violence spell is workin' a treat. But still - keep a close watch on Connor, yeah? Angelus can take him without violence - and once he's out of the hotel... ' he left the sentence dangling.

'We will do as we are bidden, Majesty,' the Groosalug said to him - again his voice was stiff and cold. Doyle frowned, again, 'well … good.' Then, feeling the not welcome vibes pouring off the other two, he decided to beat a hasty retreat, 'right, yeah, good - I'll just be off - see you later, then.'

...

Once the door was shut behind him, the Groosalug turned back to Kali, 'I cannot believe his Highness shows so little concern for the mother of his child - that he has used and abandoned you and then run back to his consort.' He shook his head, 'I always thought he was a good man - a wise ruler. But he cares little for those outside his immediate family.'

Kali smiled at him and caressed his face, 'he is weak, guided only by his desires and afraid of anything that will get in their way. That's why he and his friends can't know... how lucky we are, how special we are. Not yet. But they'll find out. When Doyle sees my sweet baby, he'll understand how wrong he was. Everything will be OK in the end, you'll see. Just as long as you protect me from his Majesty and his friends until it's time.'

'I will protect you until the very end of my life, Noble Lady.'

'You're a good boy.' She leaned down and kissed him, softly, on the lips.

* * *

'Hey,' Cordelia slid open the door to the courtyard and walked outside. Faith didn't turn around to look at her. 'You should come inside,' Cordy told her, 'the sanctuary spell doesn't work out here.'

'I'm a slayer. I can hold my own.'

'Yeah…' she walked up so she was stood beside the other woman, 'but in my vast experience of demon hunting - it's still best not to make a target of yourself.' She sat down on the edge of the fountain, so she was facing Faith, and smiled up at her, 'and slayers kinda have targets painted on their backs, as it is. There's always some wannabe big bad out there looking to build a rep. Taking out a slayer is like a first class ticket to being the uber-evil, with complimentary mojo after take off.'

'And when a slayer doesn't even fight back - kinda makes her all the easier to take out,' Faith's voice was bitter, filled with recrimination.

'What happened just now wasn't your fault,' Cordelia said to her gently. 'Angelus is dangerous - a brilliant fighter and a diabolical thinker.'

'And I left him free to roam the streets because I couldn't make the move.'

'Making the move would have killed Wesley, you made the call you had to make.'

But Faith only snorted with impatience. 'I'm the slayer,' she said, 'a warrior - born to kill - I shouldn't pull my punches because someone gets hit in the crossfire. I've gotta do what's right - what gets the demon dead.'

'You did what was right, you kept Wesley alive.'

'Yeah? And what about the people Angelus will kill in the meantime, huh? All the people he kills because I didn't stop him, what about them?'

Cordelia sighed. She bit her lip and twisted her hands together, in her lap. 'Look, Faith, we've never been friends - mostly because you boinked my boyfriend and used to kill people - but I'm telling you, now - you're doing a good job - and we appreciate the effort. You can't beat yourself up over every little thing that goes wrong. Being the slayer … look, neither of us will ever be the biggest fans of Buffy; her hair and clothes, alone, mean …' she stopped, shook herself and got back on track. '- _But _I can tell you what I've learned from her: you can only do so much. You gotta do what feels right, in the moment; trust your gut. Save the people in front of you - take the evil one step at a time. Otherwise there's just too much guilt and second guessing. And a lot of that I learned - not so much from what she got right - but from watching what she got wrong. We all learn from our mistakes, but regret gets us nowhere.'

'Right. But it's all part of the good guy package, isn't it? The guilt, the conscience.' Faith shook her head, 'damn! Somethings were just easier when…'

'You were a homicidal maniac?' Cordelia finished for her. Faith looked a little annoyed, 'that isn't quite the way I was gonna put it,' she said.

'No - but it's what you meant. Angel says the same thing.'

Faith looked surprised, 'he does?'

'Sure,' Cordy nodded, 'not caring about other people - whether they live or die - it's a huge weight off. And being able to do what you what, when you want - no consequences, no guilt… it's intoxicating. But more than that, it's so incredibly freeing. The single minded pursuit of exactly what you want, the clarity - it's pure. And it's easy. And he misses it - I know he does. But … he's a champion, so he has to do better than that. He fights to be better, everyday. And you're a champion, too, Faith. _The_ champion. The slayer - the one girl in all the world. The chosen one. So you can fight to be better, too. You just need to know that you're not failing, just because it isn't easy.'

'Right - I'm the one and only. Except for Buffy.'

'Who isn't here.' She got back to her feet once more, 'you're all we've got, Faith - our only hope. That puts a lot of pressure on you, I get it. But you can only do the best you can - that's all we ask.'

'And if it isn't good enough?'

'We find another only hope - we don't stop fighting. Until the bitter end. Because that's what champions do.' She winced, as she felt the wound in her side tug and twinge. Faith raked her eyes over her, 'how come you're out of bed, anyways? I thought you were hurt pretty bad.'

'I was … but Doyle - in his infinite wisdom - attacked Angelus and got himself spanked by the anti-demon spell. And god help me, but when chicken little is injured or in pain I _have_ to make it better. Even when I'm the one that's meant to be recuperating.' She suddenly looked shocked and embarrassed by her admission. '… Don't tell him I said that,' she said, quickly.

Faith let out a bark of laughter, 'hey, secret dies with - ' she was cut off from finishing her sentence by a dark robed figure suddenly leaping out of the bushes and pouncing on the pair of them. Cordelia was knocked, instantly, to the floor - crying out with pain as the wound in her abdomen opened up, again. The dark figure raised a curved knife - Faith punched him hard in the face. He then knocked her to the ground and dove on top of her, dagger raised - ready to plunge it into her heart. She caught his arm in both hands - there was a desperate struggle - and then, slowly, she managed to force the dagger back towards the figure. With a final grunt of exertion, she managed to twist the knife far enough back that the figure stabbed itself, instead of her. It cried out - and then slumped down on top of her. She kicked it away and rolled back to her feet. 'Damn sanctuary spell,' she muttered to herself - and then saw Cordy on the ground, 'Cordelia - you OK?'

'I'm fine,' Cordelia gasped, 'I just … I need to patch myself up again - but I'll be fine… what was that thing?'

'Hell if I know,' she pulled the figure's hood back - to reveal a human looking face- except for the eyes. The eyes were closed - like they had been removed and sewn shut - and there were strange symbols carved over the lids. She looked at the curved, jewelled knife sticking out from the figure's chest, 'but I've seen a knife like that, before…' she said, thoughtfully.

* * *

They went back inside - and Cordelia snuck into the office, to patch up her newly reopened wound. She didn't want Doyle realising she had been hurt, again … god help her, she didn't want to worry him. Wesley looked up as Faith came through the door, she nodded at him - showing she was ready. Wesley nodded back - and went back to looking through the weapons.

Cordelia came back out of the office - fixed up, once more - just as Doyle came down the stairs. He saw Faith back inside, working alongside Wesley - and gave Cordelia a smile. She had sorted it - of course she had. She smiled back at him - her eyes wide and innocent, hoping he wouldn't notice that she was moving a little stiffly. She had her purse and was carrying his brown, leather jacket - which she held out to him.

He crossed the lobby and took it from her, with a grateful smile. 'Lorne still out?' he asked, nodding at where the green demon was lying fast asleep on the couch.

'Yeah - those tranqs are pretty powerful,' Cordelia replied, 'they have to be, to take out a vampire - he'll be asleep for hours, yet.'

'Right - well, are y' ready - if we…' he motioned to the door with his head.

'Are you off somewhere?' Wesley asked them.

'Uh - yeah - if that's OK?' Doyle said, turning to look at him. 'We got to thinkin' - my missin' memory … might be that my mind got wiped, like Angel's did, by The Beastmaster - that maybe I knew somethin' useful, so they took it. And now we've lost all the leads we had … Angelus has got 'em … I might know a guy with enough mojo to get my memory back. It might help. Y'know - if you don't need us here workin' on the Angelus problem.'

'No,' Wesley frowned, thoughtfully, 'that's a good idea. Go and speak to your guy. At the moment, we need every lead we can get.'

Doyle nodded - and he and Cordelia headed on out of the lobby, together.

...

Fred, over near the counter, had heard them talking - and hung her head, guiltily, biting her lip. If only she hadn't been so _stupid_. Beside her, Gunn was checking his own tranq gun. 'You think he's coming back?' Fred asked him, 'why would he bother? He already took _everything_.'

'Maybe he will, maybe he won't,' he looked up from his gun, 'all I'm sayin' is, he tries dancing in here and pulling a Dark Shadows, again, he's gonna get a dart up his evil ass.'

'Well his ass moves pretty quickly,' her voice was bitter, 'he got the books, the Svear translations…'

'Not your fault,' Gunn told her.

She looked across at where Wes and Faith were getting ready. The pair of them were working silently, their faces were grim and hardset. 'I bet they think it was,' she muttered.

'Like they were any help.'

'Supergirl wouldn't have fallen for a cheap hunk of crap, like I did.'

'I'm just glad it _was_ a cheap hunk of crap. If anything happened to you…'

Fred looked up, suddenly, her expression was hopeful. 'Charles, can we maybe…'

At that exact moment, Wesley cocked his shotgun, cutting her off. She got to her feet, 'what are you doing with that?' she asked.

'Changing the game.'

Even Faith was looking unsure, 'I thought we weren't going for the kill?'

'We're not,' he told her, 'but if we get another chance, I want to slow him down long enough to tranq him.'

Fred and Gunn left the counter and headed over towards the other two, 'by blowing his legs off?' Fred asked. Gunn looked like he didn't hate the plan, 'you want some help with that?'

'No,' Wesley said, shortly, 'I need someone I trust to watch the hotel. Someone who can actually hurt Angelus.' Fred stared up at the watcher, her eyes wide and offended. But - whether he intended that slight, or did not realise how much his words had cut her - his next words were for Fred - a warning. Above all else, he still wanted her to be safe. 'Be careful,' he said to her. 'Next time he shows up, he might be packing the real thing.'

Then, weapons loaded, he and Faith left the hotel - leaving Fred and Gunn alone, except for the sleeping Lorne.

* * *

Angelus sat by the fire in 'Maury's Occult Bookstore.' He had a pair of reading glasses balanced on the end of his nose, which gave him a scholarly, academic air. He scanned through the books and papers he had stolen from the hotel. Maury, himself, lay on the floor, whimpering - trying to back away, he was not fooled by the reading glasses - he knew what this creature was. The flames crackled - casting their flickering light across the darkened shop.

After a long time, Angelus looked up, took his glasses off and then threw them at the cowering Maury. 'These aren't helping,' he snapped. He got to his feet and walked towards the prone shopkeeper. 'Half of this crap is written in some archaic proto-demon cuneiform…' he threw the book at Maury. 'And I don't wanna be rude, but I think the other half they just doodled.'

He bent down, beside Maury - and stabbed a thin blade straight through his chest. The shopkeeper cried out. 'Now, don't make me puncture the other one,' Angelus warned, 'I just wanna get some intel on this Beastmaster fellow. I mean, this is an occult shop, right? Your job is to help me.'

'I … don't … know,' Maury choked out.

'Sure you do. Has a penchant for rains of fire, blots out the sun...' he punched the shopkeeper, 'getting…' he punched again, 'inside …' and again, 'your', and again, 'head.'

**'_Angelus!' _** The voice of The Beastmaster boomed inside the vampire's head. He dropped the shopkeeper and stood back up, his hands over his ears. 'Hello - volume!'

**'_I am not well pleased!'_**

'I am not well deaf!'

Maury seized his chance and scrabbled to his feet, limping out of the shop as the vampire yelled into thin air.

**'_Do you think me blind, little man?' _**the voice of The Beastmaster demanded.** '_That I don't see every move before you decide to make it? Dare to seek me out, again, and your insolence will be punished tenfold.'_**

'Yeah, what are you gonna do?' Angelus voice was irritated - but there was a mocking edge to it. 'Give me a migraine?' He laughed to himself. 'You ethereal types, with your big, swinging omniscience. When push comes to shove, though - you got to send some overgrown slag heap to do your dirty work.' He glanced down and saw the empty floor, where Maury had been. 'Oh! That's great! You made me lose my shopkeeper.'

**'_This isn't the way, my sweet. We should be friends, you and I.' _**

But Angelus was not impressed by the offer, 'No,' he said, 'and I'll tell you why. One - I'm evil - so the whole friends thing is out and two - if I did have friends, they wouldn't be living inside my head.'

**'**_**Like you're forced to live inside Angel's head?'** _The Beastmaster asked. It gave a low, booming chuckle at the thought. **'_Because you're the voice in there, aren't you? Just beneath the surface, buried underneath all that goodness; fully conscious, fully aware - but trapped. Unable to move or speak. Powerless to act on your desires. So thirsty, so helpless … it must be agony.'_**

Angelus was getting really pissed off, now. The Beastmaster had nothing useful to say. 'I'm getting bored of this,' he said, out loud and started to walk towards the door - hoping to leave the voice behind, in the shop.

**'_Then how about a round of show and tell?'_** the voice boomed - unperturbed. It was inside the vampire's head, Angelus could not escape it. Sure enough, the vampire turned back.** '_Soul, soul, who has your soul?' _**

The Muo-ping appeared on the table, right in front of Angelus. He could see his soul glowing a bright white inside of it. He lunged for the bottle, but his hands passed through it, as if it were mist. **'**_**Oh that's right, me,'** _the voice said.

'More smoke and mirrors?'

**'_Only a glamour, yes, but I assure you, my sweet, this very moment I hold the real thing in the palms of my very corporeal hands, and I will restore it if you don't behave. I'll put you back in your box, Angelus, and bury you so far inside Angel, you'll never claw your way out again.' _**

Angelus looked pained. The threat had hit home. He stared at the ceiling. 'Alright, what do you want me to do?' He grit his teeth before uttering the last word, '_master._'


	55. Release: Part Three

_Part Three_

Fred and Gunn sat behind the front desk, in the lobby - loading tranq darts into guns. They were not going to run out of darts at the crucial moment if there was a next time. Lorne was still sleeping on the couch. 'Do you really think he'll come back?' Fred asked - she was annoyed with herself about before, but she still worried that packing so many sedatives was a bit unnecessary.

'Measure twice, cut once,' Gunn replied with a shrug, handing her a freshly loaded gun. She took it and frowned, 'right - 'cause that worked so well last time.'

'Not your fault,' he assured her. But Fred was still feeling bitter, still feeling the guilt. 'I should have had him,' she shook her head.

'Fred, you got out alive, so…'

'Because he let me,' she snapped. 'Why not?' she looked down, her voice was sullen. Cordy wouldn't have been tricked, she wouldn't have missed with the gun, either. Faith - Faith would have taken him down there and then. _Lilah_ would never let him get so close. And she and Wesley would have ... Even Kate - poor Kate - would have stood her ground better. It had been a long time since Fred had felt so keenly that she didn't really belong in this world - that she was kidding herself that she was one of the champions. Champions didn't lose all their intel and let the bad guy go. Champions didn't fall for dumb tricks. She was no champion - and she posed no threat to Angelus - and he knew it. 'All the little mouse could do was squeak at him,' she finished up.

'Then next time Minnie'll take a chunk of his cheese.' Gunn sighed and looked at her. He knew she was taking this hard, blaming herself when she wasn't at fault. But telling her she hadn't screwed up would get them nowhere, because she didn't believe it. 'Look, if you really think you did something wrong, don't do it again. That simple.' It wasn't really that simple, of course - Fred hadn't done anything wrong. Angelus might have been packing mojo enough to break the sanctuary spell. This time he hadn't been - but that didn't mean that next time he wouldn't be. Getting out alive was what mattered - which is what Fred had done. Trying to make up for previous mistakes, trying to do something different - if the rules had changed, that might get Fred killed.

But Fred was staring up into his eyes, 'is it?' she asked. Was it really that simple? Just don't repeat the same mistake. He looked away, turning to go, 'sometimes,' he said. Not always. Not …

'Don't,' she said, her voice wavered and he stopped. 'All we ever do is turn away,' she said to him.

'Fred I…'

'I know,' she said softly, taking a step closer and staring up into his eyes; her own eyes were large and soft. 'Whatever Wes was feeling, whatever he thought might … I should've told him it was never gonna happen. You think I don't know that?'

'That isn't what I was gonna say.'

'But it's what you think isn't it?' But he looked away from her and didn't answer. 'I'm sorry,' she breathed. He shook his head, 'it's not about that anymore. You know that.'

She moved even closer, so she was standing right in front of him - looking deep into his eyes, her face entreating, pleading. 'All I know is … I miss you,' she said. 'Can't we just go back to before any of this? I just wanna go back, Charles.' She went on tiptoes and leaned in towards him, her lips hovering just above his own, millimetres apart. 'I just wanna…' they closed the distance, and began to kiss. She tried to go deeper, pressing harder, wrapping her arms around him … but he broke the kiss and moved away, his face averted from hers. 'I … uh … I should do a sweep,' he said. He picked up the tranq gun and walked off - headed towards the basement to check the entrances.

'Yeah,' Fred said softly, sadly. She stood still, her arms wrapped tight around herself, and watched him go.

* * *

Faith stood at the bar, she held a demon around the neck and was bashing his head against the counter. Wesley was behind her, in the middle of the room - his shotgun loaded and ready for use. She slammed the demon's face into the hard surface again. 'Come on,' it squealed, 'I bruise easily.' He was not having a good night. He'd nearly had his throat ripped out by Angelus, earlier - and now he was playing the role of punching bag to a crazed vampire slayer.

She lifted his head back up, 'gee, I wonder what colour you'll be when I'm done.' She smashed him down again. 'Ow!'

A vampire - one of the ones that had been hanging with Angelus, until Mr. Legendary had gone crazy and wandered off talking to himself - launched himself towards Wesley, thinking he could take out the humans who thought they could come into a demon bar and cause a stir. The watcher just pointed his gun at him. 'Let's not, shall we?' The vampire put his hands up and backed off.

Faith was still slamming the demon's head. 'I don't remember anything!' the demon complained, 'I was drunk!' She smashed him again. 'OK, OK easy! Lay off the contusion, what do you wanna know?'

'Where's Angelus?' Wesley asked.

'Who? Ow!' He had been slammed face first into the bar again.

Faith tightened her grip. 'We've been breathing stale beer and blood half the night in pissholes like this. Guess where it led us?'

'Look I'm telling ya, I don't know anything! On my mother's tumour!' Over the human's shoulders, the demon caught sight of another demon sneaking up behind Wesley. He smirked, growing cocky. Let's see who was all tough, now... 'And if I did, I'd never yak to a couple of fleshbags that are about to get their internal organs sucked out of their…'

Wesley shot the demon in the face - without even looking. His gun was pointed behind him and he stared at the demon in Faith's grip the whole time. But his aim was true - and the now faceless demon fell to the floor. 'Strom demon,' the watcher said, casually, 'face should grow back,' he cocked his gun, readying it once more. 'Eventually.'

Faith looked at the demon she was questioning, she was the one smirking now. 'Think yours will?'

The demon knew when he was beaten. 'Oh ...oh! _That _Angelus!' he pretended to remember. 'Yeah, in here all the time - running his mouth off 'look at me, I'm so evil' - real jackass. Never liked him. I'm on your side.' Faith slammed his head against the bar again.

'Where is he?' Wesley asked again.

'I don't know … I swear!' he added, seeing the expression on Faith's face - but he really wasn't lying this time. His face was too tender from the beating. And these humans meant business - he saw that now. 'He was in here, earlier, giving us the blah blah blah and then he started mumbling to himself, like a big, pretty freak. And then … he slipped into the back.'

Faith and Wesley looked at each other. 'Back where?' Faith asked. The demon pointed. She let go of her choke hold on him and walked away, in the direction he had pointed. Wesley followed on behind. The demon slumped down in relief. Twice in one night he had crossed paths with something more powerful than him and looking to kill him - and twice in one night he had cheated death. He wasn't sure if it was the worst night of his life - or the luckiest.

...

They entered the back room, pushing aside the beaded curtain. Wesley held his shotgun ready - and Faith was armed with a tranq gun. The beads rattled behind them, as they fell back into place - and Faith looked around the darkened room in confusion. The room was quiet - but crowded. There were people here - humans - and vampires were feeding on them. But the humans weren't panicked or fighting - or even in pain … it looked like they were drugged. 'What the…' she started to say - she'd never seen anything like this before. Humans letting vampires feed on them. It was something she'd never considered.

One of the feeding vampires saw them stood by the doorway - and took in their weapons. It launched itself at the pair of them and knocked Wesley to the ground. Then it grabbed Faith by the neck, choking her out. She swung her fist and punched it. The vampire staggered backwards - unprepared for the force of her blow - and then fell to the floor. Down on the ground, Wes plunged a stake through the vampire's heart and, as it exploded into a cloud of dust, was helped back to his feet by Faith.'You OK?' she asked him.

'Dandy.' He brushed himself off and then held his gun ready, once more.

* * *

'I'm just not sure you should have come along is all, darlin',' Doyle said, as he and Cordelia entered the apartment building they were visiting and made their way to the staircase.

'Why? You said this guy isn't dangerous - and anyway, I can more than handle myself.'

'I know you can. I'm not disputin'...' They began to climb the stairs, Cordelia winced, a little, as she took the steps. 'See,' Doyle pointed out, 'that's what I'm talkin' about. You're not really fightin' fit yet, y' shouldn't be outta bed. I could have done this myself.'

But Cordy just snorted. 'Oh, don't be such a worrywort,' she said to him - though she inhaled sharply as a twinge rippled through her abdomen. She saw him looking at her, '_I'm fine,'_ she said, giving him a pointed look. 'I got out of bed because you got hurt and now I'm up I might as well be doing something useful,' she told him. 'I'm no good to the team lying on my ass in a lace nightie, too delicate to get stuck in. It's not the eighteenth century.'

'It's not … but that doesn't change the fact that you got badly injured, Princess. And it's better to recuperate properly.'

'Well, tell the universe that,' she muttered, 'because it seems to have other plans than letting me have a nice, quiet convalescence. Besides...' she eyeballed him. He hadn't done anything wrong, but he still felt guilty under her gaze, 'as long as you are in trouble I can't afford to lie around and do nothing.'

'I might not be in trouble.'

'If I say you're in trouble, you're in trouble.'

'Yes ma'am.'

'We need to sort this!' she told him, 'I wanna know what's wrong with you…' she eyeballed him again, '...besides _everything, _I mean. I wanna know why you can't remember stuff. And what happened during the time your memory is missing. This could be key. To everything! Getting Angel back, defeating The Beastmaster, averting the apocalypse. You could be the key little, Irish man - and someone has to keep an eye on you until we figure all this out.'

'And that someone just happens to be you,' he mumbled. She gave him another sharp look. 'There's no one else I trust to do the job properly,' she said. Then she winced again - as the wound in her side stabbed with pain.

'Well, just let me know if it gets too much, yeah?' he said, looking worried, 'don't be a hero, Cordy. Not for my sake.'

'Some stuff is bigger than letting a little crossbow to the belly … and the leg … get in the way,' she retorted.

'_Nothin' _is more important than you bein' OK,' he corrected. 'Not gettin' Angel back, not savin' the world, not findin' out what's wrong with me - _nothin'_.'

'You're such a sap!' But she was smiling, as she said it, looking very pleased with his words. There was a moment of silence between them, as they climbed the stairs, tense but pleasant - a frisson of electricity in the air between them that hadn't been there since … since years ago. They had known they were in love - admitted as much - long before they had ever started dating. By the time they had finally got together, they were already in a comfortable, cosy, pseudo marriage. This kind of spark belonged at the very beginning of a relationship - when the interested parties were still unsure - whether they were interested, whether the other one was interested. This was the kind of feeling that had its place in the very earliest days of their agency - around the time Wes had shown up, before Cordy even knew that Doyle was a demon. Cordelia felt her tummy clench, like she was on a rollercoaster - and she knew it was nothing to do with her crossbow injury.

They had reached the right storey and padded down the hallway, before Doyle broke the silence. 'This guy - Maury - let me do the talkin', yeah?'

'I always leave dealing with the lowlifes to you,' she smiled at him.

'He's not a lowlife … but he can … be a bit jumpy. There was this nasty time where he raised a jarvlen flesh eater. Nearly ate him. Anyway, he can get in over his head. Best not complicate matters, yeah?' They reached Maury's door and knocked on it. There was a long wait - and then they heard footsteps, and grumbling, at the other side.

The door opened - and Cordelia saw a short, plumpish man with thinning hair plastered across his head. He was wearing a dressing gown and didn't much look like a warlock, he didn't look much like anything - just ordinary. The last sort of person you would expect to be dabbling in the dark arts.

Maury squinted at the people on his doorstep, and took his glasses out of his robe pocket. They were slightly cracked, where they had been thrown at him. He balanced them on his nose and the people swam into focus. He took one look at the man - and his face became one of panic and alarm. 'No - not you - you said we were done!' he exclaimed in horror - and slammed the door in Cordelia and Doyle's faces.

The two of them looked at each other - confused. 'Uhm…' Doyle said. He couldn't explain it.

* * *

There was a young woman lying on a couch, in the dark. She was nearly passed out - there were bite marks up her arms. And track marks. Faith went to her side. 'Hey, I'm gonna get you out of here,' she said, softly, helping the woman sit up. Wesley picked a hypodermic needle off the floor - and looked at the woman; floppy, out of it, unfocused eyes. 'Faith…' he said. But she was still concentrating on the woman. 'Can you walk?'

The woman laughed - a gaspy high pitched laugh, 'no .. but I can fly.'

Faith looked confused. She turned back to her old watcher, 'what did they do to her?' she demanded.

'She did this to herself,' he replied, holding the hypo up so Faith could see it. 'They shoot up, the vampires feed. Use 'em like a filter. I've heard the results can be quite intoxicating … for both of them.'

The floppy, stoned woman struggled to focus her eyes on Faith. 'Hey, you're pretty,' she slurred to the slayer, 'wanna make out?' Faith stared at her. She was in this dark place by choice? She wasn't drugged against her will and being fed on; she was letting the vamps do it to her - for the thrill? That was low. Even by Faith's standards, that was lower than she had ever … it was contemptible.

She grabbed the girl and slammed her against the wall. It annoyed her - angered her - this woman throwing her life away, giving it to the creeps. It made her skin crawl. Made her panic about where she might have ended up if she hadn't been the slayer - and if Angel hadn't saved her soul. She might have been _this_. And - low as Faith had fallen - far as Faith had fallen - she'd at least never sunk to be this. 'There was a vampire in here,' she yelled into the girl's face, gripping her collar to keep her held against the wall. 'Tall, dark hair…' the girl's glazed eyes began to drift away. Faith grabbed her face, 'Listen!'

'OK! God! What's your problem?'

'Tall, dark hair,' Faith repeated, slowly, 'talking to himself.'

'Let go,' the drugged girl tried to twist from her grip. Faith was out of patience. She slammed her fist into the girl's face, 'did you see him?' she demanded. The girl began to cry. 'No I didn't. Stop it! You're hurting me.' Faith took a step back, letting her hand fall from the girl's collar. She stared at the drugged woman, crying in pain - pain Faith had caused. And all the anger, and fear of what she might have become, drained away - and instead she began to feel guilt. This girl was defenceless, utterly pitiful and pathetic and unable to help herself. Faith could never have been like this. But now she was using her own power to hurt someone so utterly devoid of power. It wasn't right. It wasn't who she was - not any more. It wasn't who Angel had taught her to be. She didn't have time to help this girl, if she would even accept help, but she couldn't beat her up either. Mustn't take advantage of the girl's lack of power, mustn't use her own power to scare and hurt her. Because that would be wrong.

'She doesn't know anything,' she said to Wesley, turning to go. But the watcher didn't follow her. Instead he walked closer to the drugged girl. 'Maybe not,' he said. He took out a knife and - before Faith could react, before the girl even noticed - stabbed her through the shoulder with it. The girl cried out in pain. Faith cried out in alarm. 'What are you doing? Wes?' She yelled. He whipped his head back to look at her, 'shut up!' he yelled back and then turned back to the girl.

The girl was whimpering, breathing heavily and gasping. 'The tracks on your arms,' Wesley said to her, 'you've been here, what? Two or three days straight?' She didn't answer right away and he twisted the knife in her shoulder, 'answer me!'

'Yes! God - stop! Yeah. Four - four days.'

'Then you must have seen the vampire we're looking for,' Wesley reasoned - though he did not sound very reasonable.

'Angelus,' the girl gasped, nodding her head, 'I saw him, he - uh …'

'Where is he?'

'I don't know.' But Wesley had heard that before. He punched her. 'I don't know!' she repeated, crying out. 'Please stop!'

Behind him, he could sense Faith - frantic and panicked, unsure what to do. He ignored her. 'They said he was talking to himself,' Wesley barked at the girl, keeping the pressure on the blade, 'what was he saying?'

'I don't know,' she cried. Her eyes were still unfocused - and she was staring up at the ceiling, not looking back at Wesley, as if she were trying to blot out this angry man and the pain he was causing her. 'It was like he was talking to somebody else. It was all rain of fire and pulling strings and a soul. That's all I heard. Please stop. It hurts.'

Wesley pulled the knife from her shoulder. She screamed as the blade slid back through her flesh and then she slumped to the floor. Faith pushed past Wesley and was immediately at the girls' side, supporting her - putting her hand over the girl's wound to stem the bleeding. 'Have you totally lost it?' she yelled up at Wesley.

Wesley stared down at her. 'I avoided the main arteries,' he said - his voice was cold. 'She'll live.' He glanced around the dingy back room, 'if that's what you call this.' He stalked out - and Faith stared after him.

* * *

'Maury, Maury!' Doyle hammered on the door, 'Maury - what's goin' on? Open up - please. I need some help... I'll pay.'

'Don't say that!' Cordelia hissed.

But the door opened a crack. Just a crack, though - the warlock had put the chain back on and only one, beady eye was visible, peering out at them. 'You said last time it was over,' he said, '- that, if I helped you out, again, you would leave me alone.'

'Again? What? … Maury, you helped me one time - months ago. I don't get why you're all … cowerin' behind the door.' He turned to Cordelia, 'honestly, we got along great last time. I stopped the jarvelen flesh eater from eatin' him - he teleported me into the auction house, friendly as anythin'.'

'You were a bit less friendly when you came back,' Maury snapped, 'but you promised that was an end to it. Go away - I don't want you coming near me again. You hear?'

'What did he do?' Cordelia asked, she was gazing between the two men, looking utterly confused. Maury seemed to be … afraid of Doyle. And that made no sense. How could anyone be afraid of _Doyle_? He was a tiny man ... with very limited superpowers. And also completely harmless. The only way Doyle could hurt anyone - unless they were evil - was … the way he'd hurt her. But this guy wasn't acting like he'd had his heart broken. And what were the chances that he'd known Doyle long enough to fall in love with him _and_ be betrayed by him?

'He knows what he did,' Maury said, unwilling to give anything away. He didn't know who this lady was - but if she was with Doyle then he didn't trust her either. Not after last time.

Doyle and Cordelia exchanged another nonplussed glance. 'I don't.' Doyle said, 'I swear - I've always behaved myself… with Maury, I mean.'

Cordy's eyes went wide. 'You must have come here, during the time you can't remember. You must have come here …' she turned back to Maury, 'why was he here?'

But Maury shook his head. He hadn't been asking questions - not whilst that dangerous, vicious light had been in the Irishman's eyes and his words had been just as vicious - cruel, even. He'd just lent him some power - a big chunk of mojo, and he didn't want to know what the half demon had done with it. And he wasn't talking to Doyle, now - or letting him in. 'Between you and that crazy vampire, tonight - talking to himself - I've had enough.' He made to shut the door again - but Cordelia stuck her foot in the gap. 'Crazy vampire?' she asked.

* * *

Wesley walked out of the demon bar, his shotgun over his shoulder. Faith abandoned the drugged woman - there was nothing really she could do for her - and hurried after the watcher. When they got outside, she turned on him. 'So, what? Torturing humans part of the new makeover?' she asked. She knew he had changed since she had known him. She could tell by looking - the way he dressed, the way he spoke. He could fight now. He was confident, believed in himself. He was an entirely different person to the pompous, snivelling weasel who had walked into the library, back in Sunnydale, and started throwing orders around at her and B. This new Wesley was a watcher she could really have worked with - or so she thought. She was less keen on the moral ambiguity than she was on the stubble.

'I did what I had to, because you couldn't,' he told her. He was no stranger to that - these past few years; leading men into battle when he knew they'd be killed, stealing his best friend's child, enslaving a woman and chaining her in the closet. What was a quick stab wound to a woman so high she would barely feel it, compared to all that?

'I hit her,' Faith said, defensively.

Wesley snorted with impatience, 'you think that's anything new to her?' he asked.

Faith shook her head. 'You crossed it back there, Wes,' she told him, 'what you did back there…'

He took a step towards her, and his voice took on a higher, more mocking tone. 'Oh, you have a problem with torture now?' His voice deepened again and his eyes darkened, 'I seem to remember a time when you rather enjoyed it.'

She cast her eyes low, not wanting to look at him - to remember - and folded her arms across her chest, defensively. 'Yeah, well, that's not me anymore - you know that.'

He moved the shotgun, so it was pointing forward, rather than back, 'nice to have this along, just in case,' he told her. She looked down the barrel of it, the guilt plain in her eyes. He hefted the 12 gauge so he held it across his body, in both hands - forming a barrier between them. 'I remember what you did to me, Faith,' he told her. 'The broken glass, the shallow cuts - so I would remain conscious.'

'You think I'd hurt you again?' She sounded hurt, as she said it. That wasn't the reaction he wanted. He mocked her. 'This is the part where you tell me you've turned a new leaf? Found God? Inner peace? We both know that isn't true. You haven't changed. You can't.'

'Wes…' she threw her hands up and began to walk away from him. She wasn't getting into this right now. Wasn't gonna get angry. OK - he still held the brutal torture against her, couldn't say she blamed him. But she had a job to do and now was not the time to get into ancient history.

Wesley wasn't letting it go, though. He took another step forward, following her, hounding her. 'Because you're sick,' he said to her. She stopped walking. 'You've always been sick.' She turned back to him. 'It goes right down to the roots, rotting your soul. That's why your friends turned on you in Sunnydale, why the Watcher's Council tried to kill you. No one trusts you Faith. You're a rabid dog who should have been put down years ago!'

She pushed him against the chain link fence and snatched the shotgun from his hands, raising the handle of it ready to beat him around the head with it. But then she stayed her hand - keeping it mere inches from his face and glared into his eyes, forcing herself to stop. 'See, that wasn't so hard, was it?' Wesley asked her. She glared at him - realising she had been played. 'That's what you'll need to beat Angelus.'

She put the gun down and stepped back, 'no.'

'You have to be willing to take it all the way, Faith.'

'I can't risk killing Angel,' she said to him, 'not after all he's done for me. There's got to be another way.' She walked off.

...

Wesley's cell phone began to ring, he fished it out of his pocket and flipped it open - seeing Doyle's number on the screen. 'Hello?'

'Hey, man - listen, Cordy and me were just talkin' to that warlock - you know, Maury? He's seen Angel - this evening.'

'Where was he?' Wesley's voice was sharp.

'At Maury's book store - he'll be long gone by now… but Maury said he was talkin' - to himself, like he was having a conversation with thin air. Somethin's up … or he's crazy or...'

'The Beastmaster has made contact with him,' Wesley finished up, remembering what the drugged girl had said., 'whatever was pulling the strings of The Beast is now talking to Angelus.'

'So, what do we do?'

'It's more imperative than ever that we bring him back in - and quickly. Whatever the Beastmaster needs these powerful minions for - it can't be good.'

'How we gonna do that?' Doyle asked, down the line, 'Faith already tried hand to hand. He demolished her.'

'We have to find another way,' Wesley replied - echoing the slayer's words. He glanced back at the demon bar - an idea formulating in his mind.


	56. Release: Part Four

_Part Four_

Lorne groaned, as he woke up - rubbing his head. He opened one bleary eye and squinted - the entire team seemed to be gathered in the lobby. He groaned louder, 'for the love of God, someone get me a SeaBreeze!'

'Lorne!' Fred jumped - her voice sounded guilty - and she rushed off to start mixing the cranberry juice and vodka. The others crowded around him, 'how do you feel?' Cordy asked.

'Like I've been smacked in the noggin by a 2x4 wrapped in velvet … yeah, that's pretty much what it feels like.'

'I'm really really sorry,' Fred said, bringing the drink over and handing it to him. 'So, so beyond sorry.'

He took the drink, gratefully, 'oh, go on with you, it's the first decent sleep I've had since the apocalypse started.' He looked around at them all - and noted their grim faces, 'so, what did I miss?'

'Angelus and his usual freak show,' Gunn told him. Lorne raised an eyebrow - but everybody still had their necks attached, so he could only assume the sanctuary spell had held up.

'Like a charm,' Doyle said, ruefully, rubbing the back of his head as he remembered it smacking against the hard ground. Cordy rolled her eyes, 'brain trust, here, decided to try it out for himself - spanked him, good.'

'I was wondering why you were out of bed,' Lorne said to her - his eyes darted between the two of them. 'Playing nursemaid to the little, green studmuffin - just like old times.' They were stood very close, he noticed, almost touching - but not quite … like in the old days. But he wasn't getting the warm, fuzzy vibe off them - he wasn't getting any vibe. He frowned. Maybe they were too tense for their auras to be feeling the love. Everything was pretty much a disaster, right now - he couldn't blame them. But it still seemed strange to him that their body language was screaming one thing - whilst their auras were a deafening silence. 'So - the spell is working, score one for the good guys - so what's with the grim?' he asked.

Fred looked down, guiltily, whilst Faith tutted and Wesley looked impatient. 'Angel made off with all our research,' Gunn told the anagogic demon, 'everything from Lilah's book - the Svear incantations, we got nothing left.'

'Why'd he do a thing like that?'

Wesley cleared his throat, 'that's what we were just discussing, before you came round,' he said. 'It seems - verified by multiple sources - that Angelus is talking to someone, speaking to a voice that no one else can hear.'

'We reckon it's The Beastmaster,' Doyle told Lorne. He shrugged, 'Angelus killed The Beastmaster's favourite pet - and now the master wants a new one. And it's usin' Angelus. Talkin' inside his head. We reckon he took all our research to try and find out where The Beastmaster might be hidin'.' The Irishman frowned, 'not that we knew - it won't do him much good.'

But Fred continued to look guilty.

'I have a question,' Cordelia said, looking around at all the others - but focusing on Wesley in particular. 'I get that The Beastmaster is pissed with Angelus for killing the Beast and bringing back the sun but … Angelus famously doesn't play well with others. He refused to do the Master's bidding and join the Order of Aurelius back when he was just a tiny, baby vampire. And now he's got two centuries of slaughter under his belt and a reputation to uphold. Why would The Beastmaster think it can control Angelus? The Beast was just a big, dumb rock - but Angelus is smart - and he always works alone.'

'That's a good question,' Wesley sank down on the sofa and pondered it, 'it has some hold over him, some leverage.'

'His soul,' Gunn said. Everybody turned to look at the street fighter, who shrugged, 'seems about right to me. Someone took it and it wasn't one of us. If The Beastmaster has Angel's soul - and is threatening to stuff it back down Angelus' throat if he isn't a good boy…'

'Then Angelus will do whatever The Beastmaster asks of him,' Doyle said slowly, nodding. 'He isn't gonna risk getting trapped inside Angel again.'

'But he does whatever The Beastmaster says - and The Beatmaster might give him his soul back, in the container - and Angelus can get rid of it,' Gunn finished up.

'I'm not sure it would ever give up it's leverage - but the carrot and stick approach will keep Angelus hopping to his tune,' Wesley said.

'So - The Beastmaster has Angelus' soul - find The Beastmaster, find the soul,' Cordelia surmised. Fred hung her head, 'shame about that whole getting all our research stolen thing,' she muttered.

'So steal it back,' Faith said, 'look - we gotta get out there, hunting Angel, but that doesn't take us all. Me and Wes can do that, whilst you guys find the research.'

'How we gonna do that?' Fred asked, sounding sullen.

But Doyle knew the answer, 'Maury,' he said to them, 'my warlock. He said Angelus was at his shop - reading bits, researching. Then he started having a conversation with a voice in is head and Maury escaped … but if that's when Angelus found out that The Beastmaster had his soul, and would stuff it back in him if he kept on searching the big bad out … I'm guessin' he'd leave all that stuff in Maury's shop. He's got orders to follow now.' There was a slight smile on the Irishman's lips, as he said that last part, which suggested he was quite enjoying the fact that Angel - in his evil form, of course - was being forced to dance attendance on something even bigger and scarier than he was. The vampire was not quite so impressive, after all.

'Right - that's the plan, load up,' Faith said - getting to her feet and grabbing a tranq gun. Wesley just had one alteration he wanted to make: he and Faith were going to need Doyle to help them track down Angelus. They had no idea where the vampire would have gone, they needed Doyle's demon senses.

'Cool,' Faith said - then she looked at Doyle, remembering his point blank refusal last time, 'if he's up for it.'

Doyle glanced across at Cordelia, looking very much like he wanted to refuse - like he wanted to stay by her side until Angelus was captured. But Wesley wasn't offering him a choice this time. 'If The Beastmaster is talking to Angelus than it is more important than ever that we capture him and take him off the streets. Who knows what they will make Angelus do, in service of this apocalypse? It isn't just a case of getting Angel back, now, to help in the fight. It's about stopping Angelus from ending the world.'

'He has tried that before,' Cordelia said, wryly. She looked at Doyle, 'you should go with Wes and Faith - that's where you're needed.'

'But…'

Gunn cocked his tranq gun, 'Angelus comes anywhere near us and I'm gonna shoot his evil ass so full of sedatives he won't wake up for a week. You don't have to worry about your girl, Irish - we got this.'

* * *

Kali had shut herself in Angel's bedroom, telling the Groosalug she needed a lie down and mustn't be disturbed. She held the orange crystal in her hand and her eyes turned completely white. 'They'll be hunting for you right now,' she said.

...

**'_And what are you going to do about it, my sweet?'_** The voice boomed inside Angelus' head. 'I dunno - I thought maybe - kill them?' Angelus replied, his voice irritated.

**'_Good boy - the slayer - I want her destroyed.'_**

'Glad to be of service.'

**'_She is too dangerous, my sweet. I have such plans - and I cannot have her wrecking them. Kill her. Quickly. I know how you like to play - like to tease - like to make a kill last until you have wrung out the last drops of exquisite agony; to revel in the ecstasy of grief. But not with her, my sweet. We cannot risk her escaping.'_**

'Oh - I'll make it quick.'

**'_Then you need to let them find you - choose your ground, wisely. This is a fight you have to win. Where will they go looking for you?' _**

The voice vanished - and Angelus thought about the question.

* * *

Faith had loaded up on stakes and crossbows, she had a tranq gun tucked in her belt - and Doyle carried another. Wesley still held his shotgun. Cordelia and Fred had both tied crucifixes around their necks - ready for their field trip to Maury's store, stealing back their research. They also had a tranq gun each, and a bottle of holy water. Cordy scooped up some stakes and dropped them into her purse. Beside her, Doyle was wriggling into his brown, leather jacket. 'Uhm … you will be careful?' he said to her, eyeing the stakes.

She turned to look at him, they were standing less than a foot apart. 'Of course, I will - but I don't expect him to show. You guys are gonna be keeping him busy.' Her eyes became dark with concern, '_you _will take care, right?' He nodded his agreement and shuffled his feet, uncomfortably. 'I mean it,' Cordelia said, her voice quiet and urgent. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. 'Faith's a slayer - she does the fighting. You find him and then you get the hell out of there, OK?'

He was staring down at where her hand rested against his coat, wishing he hadn't already put the jacket on - she could have been touching skin, if he'd been a bit slower, he could have felt her fingertips trace their way across his arm. He missed the feel of her touch …

She seemed to realise what he was staring at, what he might be thinking - and hastily dropped her hand, as if she had been scalded. 'I mean…' she said, awkwardly, 'you mustn't be a hero. You have to get back here in one piece.'

He swallowed - missing the weight of her hand at once - 'you too,' he said, 'nothin' heroic. If Angelus makes an appearance - you run away, to hell with the research.'

'I promise.'

'Me too,' he said. They looked at each other - their eyes meeting and holding contact. Cordelia's breath was shallow and a pink tinge began to spread across her cheeks. There was so much they wanted to say - so much between them - and now here they were, afraid that one, or both, of them would die on their mission, tonight - and those things would be left unsaid forever. The air seemed to crackle between them - that same frisson they'd felt on the stairs, back at Maury's. Doyle's mouth felt dry, he licked his lips - nervously - hoping to find some moisture. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to tell her he loved her. If this was going to be goodbye - he wanted to make sure they said it right. But he didn't know where to start, or even if his words would be welcome. So all he could do was warn her to be careful.

It was easier when she hated him - when all the love was on his side and he had nothing to lose by telling her how he felt. But now … things had shifted between them. There was that uncertainty - like they had felt at the very beginning of their time together - the nervousness of attraction coupled with all the things that stood in their way. And they were left like strangers - unsure as to how to make their feelings known.

'Cordelia…'

'Yes…?'

'I…' he stared at her, wondering what the end of that sentence should be. She looked back. She looked hopeful - or was that merely his hopes projecting? The silence lengthened.

'Doyle - come on, we're burning moonlight,' Faith was ready to go. He took a step back, the moment between the two of them was broken, he gave her a small, sad smile, 'stay safe,' he said.

'You too,'

And then. With a last, backward look at Cordy, he walked away, following Faith and Wesley out into the night.

* * *

They took Wesley's truck - Wes drove, Faith was squashed in the middle and Doyle sat by the window, wearing his demon face. 'We need to narrow down our search parameters,' Wes was saying, as they stopped at a red light. 'Where is Angelus likely to go?'

'Back to the warehouse?' Faith asked, but Wes shook his head. That had been The Beast's hideout, Angelus would want a place of his own. And now the sun was back and chaos no longer reigned in the streets - he wouldn't need somewhere as quiet or as out of the way. 'Angelus has never been one for warehouses and sewers and rats,' Wes said, 'he always stayed in the finest hotels, went to the grandest parties. He had style. Now the world is back to normal - almost - he won't want to be hanging around in dives.'

'We spent our whole evening tracking him down in dives,' Faith pointed out.

'And he weirded everyone out by talking to himself,' Wesley replied, keeping his eyes on the road. 'Now he's in cahoots with The Beastmaster - especially as it is against his will - he'll have taken himself off to be alone. So if Angelus could be anywhere in the city - where would he be?'

'He likes it up high,' Doyle said - still staring out of the window, 'he likes to look down, feel distant from the world.'

'Somewhere high up and high end,' Faith mused, 'any ideas?'

'He knows we're lookin' for him,' Doyle sniffed the air, tentatively, 'go that way,' he said pointing. Wes turned the car. 'So he'll hide?' Faith asked, but Doyle shook his head. 'No - no he wants us to find him. He'll go somewhere we'll look … down here,' he pointed. Wes turned again.

'So where's that?'

'Right here.'

Wesley pulled the car up and they looked at the building Doyle had directed them to: Wolfram and Hart. 'Money on him bein' in Lilah's office,' Doyle said.

'Are you sure about this?' Wesley asked. The Irishman nodded. He could trace the scent of the vampire - It was fresh. He was here. But Doyle would have been sure even without his enhanced Brachen senses. Where else would Angel go?

...

They got out of the car and made their way cautiously to the front entrance. It was very different looking to the way it had always been - since hell had come to town. Many of the plate glass windows were smashed. Others were burned and blackened with fire damage - and the whole place was deserted; desolate. Except for Angelus - high up. Waiting for them.

* * *

Cordelia, Fred and Gunn took Gunn's pick up and drove to Maury's occult bookstore. The door was open, when they got there - and the fire still burned in the range - though the shop was in darkness apart from the flickering light of the flames. They looked around at the books and magical items strewn around the room. 'I guess Angelus was havin' himself a party,' Gunn said - looking at the destruction. But Cordelia shook her head, 'no,' she said, 'this isn't fun…' she looked at the ripped up pages, the smashed glass, the overturned furniture and the patch of blood on the floor, where Angelus had stabbed Maury. 'This is frustration. He didn't find what he was looking for.'

'Well, thank heavens for that,' Fred said - maybe her blunder would turn out not to be too disastrous after all - 'let's hope we have more luck.' They got down on their knees and began to search through the loose papers - hoping to find their own research.

* * *

Doyle led the way through the law firm, still wearing his demon spikes - following the trail of Angelus' scent up the stairwell. He was glad to see that the place had been cleared of the zombies he'd heard so much about - but had no recollection of. He wasn't sure what had happened to them, though - and didn't really want to think about it. The whole place reeked of death, still. That much slaughter wasn't going to be scrubbed out anytime soon, and he wished he could morph back into his human face to dull his senses a little - envying Faith and Wesley their less sensitive noses. But he wouldn't find Angelus if he wore his human form - it was hard enough, as it was, tracking the vampire through the sickly, rotting fragrance that still clung to the air - so thick it was almost tangible.

'It's - uh - it's this one...' he said when they reached a doorway leading out onto a hall.

'Fifth floor,' Wesley said.

'Lilah,' Doyle replied. Wesley nodded. It seemed Doyle had been right, Angelus was waiting for them in Lilah's office. It made sense. It had the view. It had the personal touch. Lilah had worked so hard to try and bring Angelus out - brought Darla back from the dead, recruited Drusilla - all in an attempt to drive Angel crazy, make him dark. And after all that - it was Angel's own friends that took his soul away, when they had tried so hard to keep him on the right path back when Lilah was pulling his strings. There was an irony to that. Angelus would enjoy it.

They padded down the corridor - though Angelus would be able to smell them coming - his own sense of smell being far superior to Doyle's. He could probably hear them too - quiet as they were - but all they needed was one lucky shot. 'He's in here,' Doyle nodded at the set of double doors, Angelus' scent clung around it in a miasma, the half demon could almost see it. Sure enough, the name on the plate was 'Lilah Morgan - Associate'.

Faith took point, she opened the door carefully and pointed her crossbow inside; covering every corner. There was no sign of Angelus. She walked inside - Wes and Doyle followed on. The office was large - and seemingly empty. Wes and Faith wandered further into the room, searching. Doyle hovered awkwardly near the door.

'There's no sign of him,' Faith said, she spun around to face Doyle, again, 'are you sure…' and then her eyes went wide. Angelus stepped out from behind the door, raised his hands and snapped Doyle's neck. The half demon hit the ground, eyes closed - before he even realised what had happened. 'No!' Faith cried out.

Wesley whirled around to look. Angelus pretended to wince. 'Too late to save someone else, Faith - another body to add to the count. Guess you should've taken that shot back at the hotel.'

'You bastard!'

'Faith - ' Wesley started to say - but Angelus cut him off. 'And what are you gonna tell fair Cordelia?'

Faith aimed her crossbow, 'I'll tell her I killed you.' She shot - but Angelus snatched the bolt from the air and snapped it in two. 'Just like Doyle's neck,' he grinned and began to chuckle.

'Bastard!' Faith launched herself at the vampire, swinging her fists - but Angelus was to quick for her. He kicked her in the stomach and she went flying backwards, smashing into the far wall and landing slumped on the floor. Wesley fired his shotgun, but Angelus ducked the round. 'Gotta do better than that, Wes,' he said. Wesley fired again - but missed. Angelus was right on top of him now, 'come on I'll give you one more.'

Wes aimed the gun and fired, right at Angelus' face, but Angelus grabbed the barrel and forced it upward - the bullet buried itself in the ceiling, instead. 'Strike three,' he ripped the gun out of Wesley's hand and then smacked him about the head with the handle. The force of the blow threw Wesley through the window, he fell four storeys through the air before landing on the jutting out roof of the law firm's entrance. He smacked down onto the lower building, hard, and did not get back up again. Angelus peered down at him, 'uh oh.'

* * *

'OK, yeah - I recognise this, this is ours…' Fred said, holding up a piece of paper, 'we just need to find the ones that match it - and we already got Rheinhardt's back so…'

'Things are looking up for the good guys,' Gunn said - he and Fred began to sweep the floor of papers, holding them up to match them to the Svea runes they already had. Cordelia, however, was not helping. She was sat - leaning against the far wall - her hand resting on her stomach wound - biting her lip.

'Maybe we can track that Beastmaster after all,' Fred was saying, 'if Angelus thought this stuff was the right track then maybe…'

'Great,' Cordelia interrupted, though she didn't sound enthusiastic, 'all we have to do is translate runes and understand scriptures that a 200 year old evil genius wasn't able to decipher. Should be a cinch.'

Fred looked troubled, 'well - it's a start.'

'Yeah - a start - and that's all we have. The guys are out tracking Angelus, right now - they bring him back and _hello_ what then? Lock him back up in his cage and hope _this time_ he doesn't get out? We need to find The Beastmaster and we need to find Angel's soul, but this dude is seriously good at hiding. As in, 'wipes all traces of himself from the dimension' good. If we can't find him - then Angel's soul stays trapped inside that container and Wo Pang can't put it back.' She grimaced again - as her wound rippled in pain - maybe Doyle was right, maybe she was overdoing things at the moment. 'We need a plan B,' she said, through gritted teeth.

'Right plan B,' Gunn repeated, ''cause our plan A is so airtight - we got time to be thinkin' up extra plans.'

'I mean it,' Cordelia told him, 'we're dealing with major mojo, here - we need some firepower of our own.'

Fred collected the last of their papers - the cogs in her head were whirring. Major mojo. She had just the first inklings of an idea… and, maybe, she could turn it into a plan.

* * *

Angelus pointed the gun at Faith, 'uh oh,' he said again, 'vampire with a gun.' He fired at her. 'I can see why he likes this thing,' he said, appreciatively, 'makes me feel all manly.' Faith scrabbled backwards, trying to get away, she hit up against Doyle's still body and glanced down at him. Angelus was following her - gun still pointed. He saw the look on her face when she looked at Doyle - seemingly dead to the world. 'Wow, you really have gone soft, now, haven't you?' Angelus said to her. She looked back up at the vampire and he pointed the gun right in her face. She froze. 'Hey!' he said, brightly, conversationally, 'remember that time you tried to get Angel to kill you because you felt all weepy about being such a bad little girl, huh? Do you still feel that way?'

Faith looked away from him, but he pressed the point home. 'Do you still wanna die?'

'No.' Her voice was soft, barely audible. She wasn't looking at him.

'What's that?'

'No.'

'I can't hear you.'

'No!' she yelled at him - turning back to face him. He smiled in satisfaction, and cocked the gun. 'Too bad. Because you're gonna.' He levelled the shotgun right at her face and pulled the trigger. She closed her eyes. Nothing happened. The barrel was empty. He smiled again, 'but not like this.'

She leaned back and kicked the shotgun out of his hands - and then lowered her leg - swiping it across the floor to try and kick his legs out from under him. He jumped, maintaining his balance - and she sprang to her feet and began to pummel him.

'Looks like we got a live one,' Angelus grinned. She kicked him and he punched her in the face - she staggered backwards. 'For now,' he said. He kicked her - and she stumbled again - nearly tripping over Doyle's prone form. 'A little tired, sweetie?' Angelus asked her, his voice dripping with faux sweetness and concern, 'you wanna take a break?' He kicked her once more and she fell to the ground. And now he laid into her, viciously and repeatedly striking at her, kicking her so she rolled across the ground. 'Now this is disappointing,' he said, 'you never used to bleed so easily.'

She pulled herself up onto her hands and knees, struggling to get back to her feet. 'Screw you.'

'Maybe later,' he grinned, 'I like my girls to lie still.' He used the tip of his toe to roll Doyle's body over, 'when you're like this,' he told Faith, 'I'll have myself a real good time.'

'You won't get the chance,' she breathed.

'No - because you and the two great heroes are doing such a grand job of taking me down, so far. Doyle dead and Wes - hey Wes!' He shouted out of the window, 'hey buddy, how's it goin' down there?' There was no reply - and Angelus cackled in delight. 'Good ol' Wes. Always count on him to tackle a bad situation and make it worse.' He turned back to Faith, 'I mean, hey - look how you turned out. But then again, I guess he didn't really have much to work with, now.'

But Faith was back on her feet, now - and she just laughed at him. 'Save the head trip, GQ, Wes told me you'd try and get under my skin. Gave me just what I needed to scratch you out.'

'Ohh! Don't tell me!' Angelus jeered back at her, 'the rousing stiff upper lip speech. Rah rah. Good over evil. Do what must be done,' he smacked her a hard back hand, 'hang in there kitten, it's almost Friday,' he smacked her again. She staggered. 'Is that what the scraggly little ponce armed you with to fight the big bad boogie man?'

She pulled out a knife, 'yeah - and this,' she hurled the blade at him, so it buried into his chest. He stumbled back a step and looked down in surprise. But Faith had launched herself forward and - before he could react - pulled the knife back out. She then slashed at him with it - and he was on the back foot, jumping back to try and stay away from the blade. She slashed out, cutting him, and then threw the knife in the air. She punched the vampire hard in the face, and then caught the blade as it came back down and slashed out, once more - cutting him again.

He kicked her across the room - and she landed with a crash next to Doyle. 'That hurt, baby, kinda liked it.' He stalked towards her, 'How about you?' he chuckled, 'there's my girl, I knew she was in there somewhere, dying to get out.'

She stared up at him, 'shut up.'

'I know how it feels,' he said to her, quietly, 'forced to be someone you're not. Hurts to the bone. You try to bury the pain, but you can't get the hole deep enough, can you? No matter how much you dig, it's still there. Broken shards stabbing every time you breathe, cutting you up inside. You know there's only one way to make the pain stop.' He dragged her to her feet, holding her around her throat, 'hurt someone else.' And then he lifted her and threw her so hard that she crashed through the wall and into the adjoining office. She landed on the desk and it buckled beneath the weight of her - and she smashed down onto the floor, groaning. He looked down at Doyle, 'slayers,' he said to the still body, 'they're not so tough.'

By the time he looked back at Faith, she had still not made it back to her feet - her balance was off, she was bleeding heavily - and she kept stumbling. He moved towards her, grinning - ready for the kill. She skirted round him trying to keep her distance - falling back through the hole in the wall - landing close by to Doyle once more. Her limbs were no longer obeying her - she couldn't make them stand.

Angelus was moving towards her - slowly - like a shark in water. 'Come on Faith, you're not even trying.' He bent down to pull her up and punched her hard in the face. 'Or is that why you came back, huh? Not enough to punish yourself in prison? Is that it? Still looking for someone to help beat the bad out of you?' He punched her again. 'You know what the funny part is, darling? I could beat you to death and it wouldn't make a difference. Nothing will ever change who you are, Faith.' He kicked her in the face, 'you're a murderer.' He punched her, 'an animal' he grabbed her hair and punched again, and again - one final punch 'and you enjoy it.' He dropped her to the ground.

She forced herself up - enraged. She launched herself at him - catching him off balance and then punching and kicking until he was forced to the ground. Then she straddled him and hit him repeatedly with as much force as she could muster. She grunted with the exertion as she worked her anger out on Angelus' face.

...

Down on the ground - unnoticed - Doyle groaned and opened his red eyes. He could tell from the ache running the length of his spine that his neck had been snapped - again. He reached up and twisted it back into place - and the demon features melted from his face. He rolled over and saw what was happening. Faith was on top of Angel - beating him, demolishing him - with a force Doyle had never seen the like of. And then she suddenly stopped herself - fist raised - and backed away. 'No,' she said to Angelus. 'You're wrong, I'm different now - I'm not like you.'

Angelus snapped his leg out and kicked her feet from under her. He jumped back up and grabbed her as she fell downward. He yanked her back up - and his face vamped out. 'You will be,' he whispered to her. Doyle watched in horror, as Angelus sank his fangs into Faith's neck - and began to drink.

* * *

**A/N - next episode is 'Orpheus'. **


	57. Orpheus: Part One

**Orpheus**

_Part One_

Doyle stared up - horrified - Angelus had sunk his fangs into Faith's neck and was tearing and ripping at her flesh; the Irishman could hear the greedy, lusty lapping of her blood as the vampire gorged himself on the slayer, in an ecstasy of destruction. But then - even as Doyle tried to work up the strength to get back to his feet - to tear Faith away from the vampire's grip - Angelus let her go - dropping her. She fell to the floor and he staggered backwards. He raised his hand to his mouth - wiping the blood from his lips and then staring down at the ruby smear on his fingers. Something was wrong - he sniffed the blood - and then looked down at the slayer, staggering again. 'What … did you do?'

...

'_Bastard!' Faith launched herself at the vampire, swinging her fists - but Angelus was too quick for her. He kicked her in the stomach and she went flying backwards, smashing into the far wall and landing slumped on the floor. Wesley fired his shotgun, but Angelus ducked the round. 'Gotta do better than that, Wes,' he said._

_Whilst Angelus was looking the other way, Faith pulled a hypodermic needle out of her boot._

_Wesley fired again - but missed. Angelus was right on top of him now, 'come on I'll give you one more.' _

_Faith stuck the needle in her arm and pressed the plunger - until all the contents of her syringe were now injected into her bloodstream. _

_Wes aimed the gun and fired, right at Angelus' face, but Angelus grabbed the barrel and forced it upward - the bullet buried itself in the ceiling, instead. 'Strike three,' _

_It was done - and by the time Angelus came back for her, shotgun in hand - she had hidden the needle and was ready to take him down …_

_..._

Angelus stumbled, hitting up against the wall. His legs were buckling beneath him. He still stared down at the slayer, 'you...' he slurred, accusing her, 'you… spiked…' He collapsed, losing consciousness. Doyle stared at the passed out vampire - and then dragged himself over to Faith. She was fading. 'Are you OK?' he asked her. She smiled. 'Kicked his ass,' she mumbled - and then lost consciousness, herself.

* * *

Lorne stood behind the counter, in the lobby - flicking through one of their books - not that it would help, nothing seemed to help. He looked up in alarm, as the front door burst open. Fred and Cordy came barrelling through the door. 'Woah - ladies - what's up?' he asked. But they ran straight past him, headed for the basement. 'Fred?' he called after her.

'We need chains,' the woman yelled back, 'now!'

Lorne looked confused but then - a moment later - Gunn came through the door, backwards, carrying something heavy. Doyle was following. Between them, they dragged Angelus into the hotel and dropped him down on the ground. 'Angelus!' Lorne stared down - his voice as alarmed as his face, 'he's in the hotel! What happened?'

'Where are those chains?' Gunn yelled - ignoring the demon. The two women reappeared, 'steel shackles,' Fred said - handing them over. Doyle and Gunn started to chain up the unconscious vampire. 'We only had rope in the truck,' Gunn explained to Lorne.

'I got the leg irons,' Cordy passed them to Doyle - who had been holding Angelus' feet - and the Irishman started to lock them in place, as well, 'thanks, princess.'

'What happened?' Lorne asked - still looking startled at the flurry of activity.

'We found Angelus,' Doyle explained. 'She took him down, but … I needed help movin' him, called Gunn in.'

'We were just finishing up at the book shop,' Cordelia added, 'we found the research - and then went straight across to Wolfram and Hart.'

'Wolfram and Hart?' Lorne was not looking any less confused, 'what? Where's Wesley and Faith at?'

Doyle and Cordelia exchanged a grim, but silent glance. 'He's bringing her in,' Gunn said, quietly.

As Lorne watched, Wesley appeared in the doorway. He carried Faith in his arms. She was bruised and bleeding - and not moving. Her eyes were closed. The watcher took one look at the chained vampire, 'get him downstairs,' he said to the men. 'Cordelia, Fred - help me with her.' He moved towards the stairs - and the women followed. Between them, Gunn and Doyle hefted the now chained Angelus back up and began to manhandle him towards the basement door. Lorne stood in the middle of the lobby and watched the two parties go in their opposite directions. 'Aw … hell,' he said.

* * *

Wesley carried Faith down the hall. Cordelia held the door to Doyle's old room open - and they went inside. The slayer was gently laid down on the bed. Fred went into the bathroom and ran the hot tap; when it was warm enough, she filled a bowl with warm, soapy water and picked up a clean face cloth. When she came back out of the room, Cordelia was sat on the bed, holding Faith's hand. Wesley was leaning against the doorway - his arms folded, his expression grim. Lorne had followed them up and he was sitting on Faith's other side. Fred put the soapy water down on the nightstand - dipped in the cloth and then wrung it out. 'Here,' she said, softly.

Carefully, Cordelia peeled back the makeshift bandage she had stuck on Faith's wound - back in the truck. Once the pressure was taken off, it began to bleed again - and both Lorne and Fred looked away from the ugly, gaping hole inflicted by Angelus. But Cordelia began to wipe away at her wounded neck, cleaning it.

Lorne held Faith's hand. He looked down - not wanting to see the damage - and instead noted the track mark inside her elbow. It was bruised and discoloured - and the red pinprick stood out. He leaned forward and gently raised one of her eyelids, a knot clenching in his stomach. It was as he feared. Her eye was glazed and bloodshot. He let her eyelid drop back closed and stared up at Wesley, disbelieving. But the watcher said nothing - and he just continued to stare straight ahead, looking at Faith.

* * *

Down in the basement, Doyle and Gunn lugged Angelus inside his cage. They lay him back down on the narrow bed and worked to secure him in place; shackling his already chained arms to the cot. They wrapped a shackle around his neck as well. Once they were sure he was secure - that there was no way he could get out of this - they stared down at him.

Although he was still unconscious, he did not seem to be peaceful. He twitched, fitfully - a tremor running across his face. 'Is he dreamin'?' Doyle asked, watching him closely.

Angelus stirred - unable to move very far, on account of the chains - he writhed and then began to mumble. 'Kill you…' he muttered beneath his breath, 'kill … you…' Doyle and Gunn jumped backwards and the street fighter pointed the tranq gun straight at the sleeping vampire. 'Go up and check on the others,' he told the Irishman, 'I'll stay here and guard_ this_.'

* * *

Faith was stirring in her sleep, as well, not peaceful - she squirmed under the covers. 'Scratch you out…' she mumbled. Fred looked around at the others, 'she isn't making any sense,' she said.

Lorne left her bedside and went over to Wesley. 'And speaking of sense,' he whispered - not wanting to disturb Faith any more than she was already - 'have you gone on permanent sabbatical from yours? Tell me you did not shoot that girl full of junk and then feed her to Angelus?'

Cordelia and Fred both turned to stare up at Wesley, shocked. But the watcher betrayed no emotion - no remorse. 'It was her choice,' he said, 'Faith knew the risks.'

'Aw - she couldn't!' His voice was raised now. Fred hushed him - with a worried glance back at the unconscious girl. But nothing was getting through to her - Fred need not have worried. Lorne lowered his voice, once more. 'Wesley, I know what that drug does to people. Especially when they supersize the dosage to make sure they really get the job done. And you damn well know it too.'

Doyle appeared in the doorway, 'hey,' he said - he entered the room and looked down at Faith, 'how is she?' he asked Cordelia. She looked back up at him, 'not good,' then she twisted so she was looking back at Wesley, 'she took something. Lorne says… that's why…'

'And I wanna know exactly what it was,' Fred said, folding her arms - her face set and grim, 'Wesley?'

It was Lorne that answered, 'Orpheus,' he said. Doyle looked alarmed - and he too turned to stare at Wesley, 'Jesus, man!'

'You didn't know she was gonna do this?' Cordelia asked him. He shook his head. The slayer and her watcher had not let him in on their plan, he was just the sniffer dog.

'What is Orpheus?' Fred asked, 'some kind of opiate?'

'Mystical variety,' Lorne nodded, 'humans inject it, vampires feed off the humans.'

'Gives 'em quite the high,' Doyle added, 'I've heard of it but …' he shook his head, 'even I always stayed away from them that pushed it. Even at my lowest … I'd never go near the likes of them. It's … it's horrible. What it does to people…'

'Folks tried to deal it at Caritas,' Lorne told them, 'only folks I ever banned from my club.'

'And you let Faith take it?' Cordelia hissed at Wesley, 'where did you even find it?'

On the bed, Faith began to stir; mumbling again, in her coma. 'The 'vention…' Cordelia turned back to her, and reached out a hand, stroking her hair, soothing her.

Fred was still thinking about the drug. 'So, if ordinary humans do this junk - slayers are all super right?'

'They have super healing,' Cordy nodded, still trying to soothe the restless Faith. 'Let's hope it's enough…'

But Lorne wasn't hopeful. Orpheus was more dangerous than your normal, everyday narcotic. It wasn't just physical. It was an enchanted drug.

'Means it works on more levels than most drugs,' Doyle nodded, 'the highs are higher - but the lows are lower and the come downs …' he stopped talking and shuddered.

'Magic plus biting,' Lorne said, 'it makes for some serious psychic psychedelia. And the more you take - the deeper you sink.'

Wesley still stared at Faith - and the way she writhed on the bed, unable to find peace - even in unconsciousness. 'It leads you down to hell,' he said, 'and leaves you there.'

* * *

_After the long journey from the old world, the huddled masses disgorged from the ship. Towering above them, Lady Liberty held her torch - a beacon of hope, of new life. But first they had to get through immigration. The crowds were heaving; men, woman and children surging forward to get off the ship - to reach the immigration office. But - as hectic as the swirling ocean of bodies was - they still parted to let one, lone figure make his way through the crowds. _

_Angel stumbled his way through the harbour, ignoring the people around him; ignoring the desperate gnawing hunger in his belly and the bloodlust that just being around humans always brought to the fore. Perhaps the humans could sense the danger in him - because they all scuttled out of his way - and he stumped off, not bothering with the line for immigration._

_Angelus stood on the slipway - looking confused - at the ship, at the seething masses of unwashed people, at the Statue of Liberty. Then he saw himself - headed straight for him. Dirty and unkempt, his long hair straggling, his eyes haunted. This guy. He hated this guy. Whilst all around them were scurrying out of his way like frightened rats, Angelus stood his ground - staring him down. But Angel paid him no attention - and just walked straight through him - as if he were nothing but mist. 'Hey!' Angelus yelled - turning to stare after himself, 'what is that about?'_

'_You tell me,' Faith had appeared at his side. 'It's your flashback.' With a snarl, he launched himself at the slayer but - just as Angel had passed through him - he stumbled through her. She was just as insubstantial as he was - a manifestation. She began to laugh, watching him, 'you know what the definition of insanity is, baby?' she asked, 'doing the same task over and over and expecting different results. Learned that in murder rehab.'_

_He snarled at her, this was his flashback - what was she doing in it? He began to walk away, she followed him. She figured this was simply the magical side effects of her incredibly simple ruse. _

_He stopped and looked around - at the harbour, the crates and ropes and pulleys, the looming hulk of the ship - and the statue towering above them all, reaching up into the night sky with her torch of freedom. 'All right, so what is this, huh? Puff the magic dragon city? Fairyland?'_

_Faith looked around as well, 'you think? Me - I'm guessin' this is more like 'Angelus - this is your life' because,' she wafted her hand in front of her nose - and wrinkled it in disgust, 'lack of hygiene world, sure as hell aint mine.' She looked over at where Angel was stumbling away from them, 'what? Did you like completely miss the invention of the bath?'_

'_The whole way over here - he crouched in the filth of animals just to avoid human temptation,' Angelus snarled through gritted teeth. His fists clenched at his sides, 'this isn't my life - it's his!' _

'_Angel's?'_

'_It annoyed the crap out of me the first time around. This sucks.' He looked at the slayer, 'why do you get to be Marley's ghost?' _

_She sat down on one of the crates and laughed, again, 'because I'm dyin', dumb ass. Way I figure it, I've got one last job to do: babysit the psycho til they shove a soul up your -'' _

'_Not gonna happen.' _

_She got back to her feet, 'Then I'm whatever … dust in the wind. Candle in the wind. There'll be a general wind theme.'_

_He looked her up and down, 'I thought those suicidal tendencies got squashed out in the big enlightenment.' But she only shrugged, 'I rolled the dice,' she told him, 'paid even odds.'_

_..._

_They stayed still - but the world changed around them, the mists heaving and shifting - and when the scene was reformed, they were stood in a street. The sea was gone - so was the statue of Liberty. Loud jazz music was playing, cars drove past … though not cars like Faith had seen before. Cars from old movies … really old movies. Silent ones. _

_The pair of them were stood outside a speakeasy. A small group were huddled nearby, shooting craps. They wore shirt sleeves, suspenders and Derbys A couple walked past them, holding hands. The man wore a Fedora and a suit. The woman had on a cloche and - unlike the women back at Ellis Island - her dress only came to her knees. None of them paid attention to the two people from the twenty first century. Faith looked up at Angelus, 'trippy,' she said. _

_Angelus looked around, 'early 20s - by the cars,' he told her, 'what is this - Chicago?' He looked across the road and saw himself - his other self - standing on the opposite sidewalk. This version of Angel looked clean and dapper. His hair was sleek and he had on suit with wide lapels and a pair of spats. Angelus groaned - and began to look around for an escape, 'oh no - I remember this. I remember this place. I gotta get out of here.' He was frantic._

'_Why? You freaking out?' Faith didn't understand._

'_It's coming.' Down the street, a car turned the corner and slowly made its way towards them. _

_Faith was infected by his sense of panic, she felt the dread begin to rise in her, 'what's coming?' she asked sharply. Angelus was raving, now. 'I can't do it again. I won't.'_

_Across the street, old timey Angel suddenly jumped off the kerb and ran out into the road. Faith yelled at him to get out of the way, as the car and the vampire nearly collided. But Angel kept on running until he gained the sidewalk, once more - now stood beside Faith and his other self. There was a small squeaking noise. He turned - and Faith saw what he held in his arms. Beside her, Angelus was cursing. She burst out laughing, 'dude, you just rescued a puppy!' _

_A young woman, a flapper - her short hair in curls and a feather boa draped around her shoulders - came running out of the speakeasy. 'Oh my stars! You saved her, mister!' she exclaimed. She took the puppy from Angel's arms - who just stared at her, dumbfounded. Beside them - unseen - Angelus groaned to himself, again. 'I'm in hell,' he said, 'this is hell and I am in it.' _

_The woman was cuddling her dog, stroking it. She looked Angel over - her eyes became appreciative at what she saw. She smiled, 'well, gee, big fella - how can I thank you?'_

_Angel continued to stare - frozen. Angelus stood at his shoulder, hissing at him, 'we haven't fed on a human in decades. She's begging for it - you moron!'_

_Angel seemed to shake himself awake, 'get lost,' he said to the woman. She frowned, that wasn't what she had expected, 'beg pardon?' _

'_Take a hike, Betty. Scram!'_

_She looked offended. 'Well, plough snow, you mook!' and she stormed off back into the club. Faith laughed again - watching the whole exchange. 'We're reliving Angel's good deeds,' she said in delight, 'you are in hell! Wicked!'_

* * *

Lorne and Cordelia stayed by Faith's bedside - watching the tremors pass across her face, as the life drained away from her. Down in the basement, Gunn stood and watched Angelus, his tranq gun trained on him the whole time. He didn't know if Doyle had guessed right, when he had suggested the vampire was dreaming - but he certainly wasn't resting easy.

* * *

Wesley, Fred and Doyle were gathered in the lobby. 'There's only one thing we can do for Faith now,' Wesley told them, 'finish what she started.'

'You mean we're gonna re-ensoul Angel?' Fred asked. Wesley nodded. Doyle folded his arms across his chest and frowned. 'But how are we gonna do that?' he asked, 'I don't wanna sound like a broken record - or be the voice of doom or nothin' but … we've lost the jar. No jar, no soul. No soul, no Angel.'

'It might not be as simple as that, Doyle,' Fred told him, 'I've been doing some research…'

'Into what? How to perform miracles? 'Cause that's what we're gonna need to get Angel back.'

'No you're not,' a voice said from the doorway. They all turned to look. A young woman with red hair was standing there, smiling down at them. 'You're gonna need a witch,' Willow said.


	58. Orpheus: Part Two

_Part Two_

'Did I come at a bad time?' Willow asked. She walked up to the desk and put her bag down on it. Wesley stared at her, 'Willow.' Doyle was also staring, one eyebrow raised, quizzically, 'you're here…' he said, he turned to look at Wesley, 'Willow is here,' he told him - as if Wes couldn't see for himself. 'Why is she here?' the Irishman whispered.

'Hi Willow,' Fred said to the witch, her smile was big and warm and welcoming. Willow smiled back - it was hard not to be drawn into Fred's sweetness. 'Hi, Fred,' she said. 'It's good to see you…' she looked Wesley up and down - like Faith had done, noticing how he had changed since the Sunnydale days. 'And it's the Marlboro man,' she said, 'or, at least his extra stubbly, mentally unstable, insomniac, first cousin of … for the love of Hecate somebody stop me.'

Fred giggled in delight, 'It's OK, I'm a yammerer from way back.' Willow smiled at her again. Doyle noticed how close they were standing, the twin warm smiles on their faces… 'uh … Fred, darlin',' he started to say. But Wesley interrupted him. 'Are there forces gathering? Did the call of magic draw you here?'

'More like the call of Fred.' The two women looked at each other and giggled, again.

'Uh … Fred,' Doyle started to say again.

'Of course,' Wesley realised what was going on, 'bring in the only living person to ever re-ensoul Angel.'

'Y'know … Cordy helped with that,' Doyle pointed out.

'She waved the stinky herbs around,' Willow nodded, 'and she can help again - where is she?'

'Upstairs - with Faith,' Fred said, the warmth on her face dimming for a moment as she considered the stricken slayer, 'she's in a bad way - Faith, I mean. We've tried everything. That's why I thought …' again her face grew warm and admiring, 'you have a fresh brain - you might see somethin' we missed.'

Willow shook her head, 'with the thoroughness of your methodology?' She smiled, 'I doubt it.'

Fred flushed and giggled, 'Aw … go on.'

'No - really … Fred…' Doyle tried to say.

'I'll go and see Cordy, if that's OK?' Willow said - looking around, 'tell her I'm here.'

Doyle nodded, I'll take you to her.'

* * *

He led Willow up the stairs and down the hallway to his own room. Then he tapped gently on the door, not wanting to disturb the vigil around Faith. There had been too many vigils in the hotel since Angelus had been unleashed - he hoped this would be the last. He poked his head round the door, Cordy was sat on the bed - holding Faith's hand - she looked round at him. 'What is it?' she asked.

'There's someone who wants to see you,' he motioned for her to leave the room. Cordy glanced at Lorne - who nodded that she was OK to go, he would keep an eye on Faith, whilst she was gone. She got up and went out of the door, closing it behind her, softly.

'Willow?' She said, in surprise, when she saw who was standing there. 'What are you doing…' her eyes suddenly narrowed, suspiciously, 'and what are you doing with Doyle?'

'I just brought her up her to see you,' the Irishman said quickly, 'no funny business - I swear. You know I would never … I'm not Xander.'

'And I'm gay, now,' Willow pointed out, 'not that I'm sure you don't make a wonderful boyfriend,' she said to Doyle, politely.

Cordelia folded her arms, 'he has his moments,' she said, 'so … what are you doing here?' They began to walk away from the sickroom and head for the stairs. 'Why else?' Willow asked, 'Fred called me in to help with Angelus.'

'Have you been to see him?' Cordelia asked her. But the witch shook her head. 'I'm way avoidy,' she admitted, 'too many bad memories. I'm glad I don't need to be near him when I re-ensoul him.'

'Well - you weren't last time. He'd put us in the hospital. Do your really think you can pull it off?'

They settled down on the steps, sitting near the top of the staircase to talk. Doyle leaned against the banister - a little uncomfortable - not entirely sure if he was welcome in this reunion… but no one was telling him to get lost.

'It was the first spell I ever learned,' Willow was saying, 'I'm not gonna forget that.'

Doyle cleared his throat, awkwardly, 'and … are y' OK to be doin' this?' he asked her, 'last year … Y' weren't doin' magic last year. You said you went cold turkey?'

Willow looked up at him, 'yeah - and then I went off the deep end - big time. We're talking black hair, veins … it was bad. I got sent to a magical rehab in the Cotswolds…'

Cordelia frowned, 'what's a cotswold?'

'Load of fields in England,' Willow told her, 'it's pretty - anyway there was a coven, taught me how to use my magic more … responsibly. I'm better now. I can … probably … do this.'

'Probably?' Cordelia asked - glancing up at Doyle, worried.

'I shouldn't go off the deep end,' Willow told them, 'but - as much as the spell is one I know off by heart - there are problems that mean this is gonna take a lot of power. I'm gonna have to balance a lot of forces.'

'What about the Muo-ping?'

'The jar containing Angel's soul?' Willow nodded, 'therein lines our boneage.'

'So it's like I said downstairs?' Doyle said, 'we lost the jar - well, it was stolen from our safe - and without the jar we don't have his soul. Without his soul - we can't bring back Angel.'

'A little bit,' Willow admitted, 'and this thing is impervious to magic. I already tried a standard locator spell, but zero joy.'

'And you might be able to put a soul in from a distance - but apparently you can't extract one from a distance,' Cordelia said, 'or so the shaman guy said.'

'So … we don't know where the jar is and we can't get the soul out of the jar,' Doyle whistled - long and low - 'no offence, darlin',' he said to Willow, 'but I'm startin' to think we might be at 'needin' a miracle' territory, after all. Bein' a witch aint gonna crack it.'

'Crack it…' Willow repeated - she stared off into the distance, for a moment, 'crack it…' she said again, almost dreamily. Then her face lit up. 'I got it!'

Doyle and Cordy both looked surprised, 'you do?'

'It's easy! We just break the jar. That way we don't have to magic the soul out - we just _crack_ the glass around it. Doyle - you're brilliant!'

Doyle looked modest, 'well, I try.' Cordelia glanced between the two of them - once more, her eyes were narrow and suspicious. 'Will that even work?' She asked.

'Sure it will - there's something called Delothrian's arrow, we don't even need to know where the jar is. And then Angel's soul will be floating around in the ether…'

'And you can channel it into an orb of Thesulah,' Doyle finished up. Willow nodded, grinning, 'we can get him back!' Cordelia glanced between the two of them again and frowned. 'Right - that's enough,' she said, getting to her feet. Willow and Doyle looked at her in surprise. 'I get it - you bounce of each other like … bouncing things. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna sit around and watch it.'

'Cordy, I'm gay…'

'Uhuh - right, well, good for you - but Doyle is going upstairs.'

The Irishman looked confused, 'I am? Why?'

'_Because _…' she made her voice slow - like he was simple - and it wasn't just her getting jealous over nothing. It wasn't nothing anyway. She'd never let Doyle near Willow, in the past, and she wasn't starting now - right when … well, she'd think about that later. 'There's gonna be lots of dark magic bouncing around,' Cordelia said, 'and you heard Willow - she might go evil and kill everybody, herself.'

'That isn't exactly what I said,' the witch muttered.

'You need to go upstairs and tell Kali and Groo that Angelus is back in the building and we're doing spells and they need to be on high alert protecting Connor,' she told the half demon, as if there had been no interruption. 'And you - ' she turned back to Willow, 'need to get downstairs and start doing this thing, already. Time's a wastin'.'

With a sigh, Doyle turned and began the long walk up to the top floor. Willow smiled, as she watched him go. 'I'm not gonna steal your boyfriend, again, Cordy,' she said. Cordelia glared at her. 'He's not my boyfriend,' she said.

* * *

He tapped on the door to Angel's rooms. There was the sound of a sudden flurry of activity - which he didn't understand. He frowned and stuck his head round the door, 'everythin' OK?'

Kali was lying across the sofa again, a blanket tucked around her. The Groosalug was down on the playmat playing with Connor. Doyle frowned even deeper - Kali hadn't been injured in the attack, when Cordy was shot - and yet every time he saw her, recently, she was laid out like an invalid. And there was still that weird hostility coming from the pair of them - like they weren't pleased to see him, which was strange. They'd worked well as a team - for the short while before he lost his memory, anyway. He had no idea what had happened after that. Maybe they were holding a grudge over something he'd done that he didn't remember.

'What's up?' Kali asked.

'We got Angelus back,' he told them both, 'he's here in the hotel. We're gonna try and re-ensoul him.'

Kali sat bolt upright. The blanket nearly fell from her and she gripped it tightly to stop it from dropping to the floor, pulling it back up towards her chin. 'You can't do that,' she said, 'his soul is lost - the jar…'

'Is impervious to magic, yeah,' Doyle agreed, furrowing his brow at her reaction. It didn't make a whole lot of sense. This was good news he was delivering. 'But we have an uber powerful witch acquaintance - best friend o' Angel's ex, actually. She's re-ensouled Angel before and she reckons she knows a way to get the soul outta the Muo - ping.'

'How's she planning on doing that?' Kali asked - her eyes were narrow.

'Some kind of arrow - she said. Can find the jar, wherever it is - and smash it. Angel's soul goes out into the ether - and we pour it back into Angel.'

'That is tremendous news,' the Groosalug said from down on the floor, 'he will be restored as a champion once more.'

'Yes…' Kali said, more slowly, 'tremendous.'

'Well, fingers crossed - she seems to know what she's doin' - she's our best bet yet. Providin' she doesn't go off the deep end and turn into the ultimate evil,' Doyle told them, 'apparently she has form … which brings me to why I'm here. Angelus in the hotel - bad mojo flyin' around - we need you on red alert for Connor protection, yeah? - though hopefully this will all be over soon - and he can be back with his da, this evenin'.'

'I will protect the child with my life,' Groo swore, solemnly.

'Thanks, bud… well, I'll better be gettin' back.' he closed the door behind him. Groosalug turned to Kali - who had got off the sofa and was pacing - now she no longer needed the blanket to hide her pregnancy. 'Do you think they will be successful?' he asked her.

'I think this witch has bitten off more than she can chew,' Kali replied. Then she turned large, vulnerable eyes on the undefeated champion. 'I'm tired,' she smiled, 'carrying this child - his majesty's child - it makes me weary, it's growing so fast. I need to lie down for a while. Please don't disturb me.'

'As you wish, my lady,' he followed her with his adoring eyes, as she went into Angel's bedroom and closed the door.

* * *

Lorne sat beside Faith and watched her. She was fading, slipping away into the darkness - and her journey there did not look peaceful. It hurt his heart to see the struggle on her face. She was so young - and had given so much. He wanted to ease her passing - if he could do nothing else for her. 'Don't worry, Princess,' he said, 'it'll all be over soon. I've seen lots of girls go through just what you're going through, now.' He held her hand in his own, squeezing it gently, and began to sing. '_There'll be another song for me, and I will sing it. Oh, there'll be another dream for me, someone will bring it…'_

* * *

'_I will drink the wine while it is warm and never let you catch me looking at the sun…' Donna Summer blasted out on the jukebox, as Angel - his hair long and his flares wide - pushed the door open and walked into the donut shop. He walked past Angelus - not even seeing him. 'Bring on the pain,' Angelus said, rolling his eyes - as his seventies counterpart crossed to the jukebox and slid in a nickle. The song changed to the one of Angel's choosing - and as its chords started up, he stood beside the jukebox, his arm rested on the top and he grooved along to the music - a smile on his face. He looked as happy as Faith had ever seen him, just enjoying the tune. 'Mandy, huh?' she said. _

_Angelus slid into the booth, across from her - looking deeply embarrassed. She was still grinning, 'must kill you he's got a jones for the power-ballads.'_

_Angelus heard a buzzing - like a mosquito swooping in at him, vibrating in his ears. He swiped at the noise and it died back. 'Worse were the concerts,' he said - gazing at the daft grin which had spread across Angel's face. _

_A couple walked past the vampire at the jukebox - coming out of the bathroom, their arms wrapped around each other - and Angel's expression changed. The smile faded - the look of peace vanished - and instead there was hunger; loneliness, but also a more visceral craving - etched into his face. Angelus rolled his eyes, 'you know what that's like?' The couple left the shop and Angel went to sit at the counter. 'Every time he gets close, I feel it. Wanting to tear their flesh apart. The hunger. It's like a blade in my gut.' _

'_Only it's not your gut, princess,' Faith said to him, smirking, 'Angel's the one that belongs on the outside, not you.' _

_Behind the counter, the clerk poured Angel a cup of coffee. The vampire took it, gratefully - hoping the caffeine would help control the temptation. _

'_You think it's that cut and dry, don't you?' Angelus said to her, 'that if Angel gets his soul back…'_

'_When Angel gets his soul back,' she corrected._

''_You just hang up your spurs and ride off into the sunset, knowing you put the monster back in his cage.' He disappeared from the seat across from her and when she looked round, he was right beside her. 'But I'm always here, Faithy, deep in.'_

_The door opened again - and a man walked in. Angelus smiled, his point about to be proved. _

_The cashier looked up at this new man, 'can I help you?' The man pulled a gun. 'Gimme your money,' he shot at the ceiling to show he meant business, 'gimme the cash in your drawer.'_

'_OK,' the clerk was nervous._

'_Open it!' the robber yelled - glancing across at where Angel was sat at the counter, drinking his coffee - looking alarmed. _

'_Oh alright - I uh…'_

'_Come on!'_

'_I just need to …'_

'_Now!' the Robber gesticulated with his gun - to get the urgency of the situation across. But his finger slipped on the trigger - and the gun went off. The bullet hit the cashier right in the gut and - realising what he had done - the robber ran straight out of the shop. The clerk fell to the floor - and Angel got up and ran round to him, crouching beside him. 'It's gonna be OK. I'll get you to a hospital. You're - you're gonna be OK. Alright? It's... everything's gonna be…'_

'_It hurts,' the cashier gasped. Blood was starting to collect in the corner of his mouth. Angel stared down at him - knowing what that meant, 'yeah - I know.' _

_Faith watched on, her face soft with sympathy as she watched the frantic Angel try and fix this. But Angelus watched with glee. 'Doc, I think we're losing him!' he crowed in mock panic, 'Gosh I love this episode!' He heard the buzzing sound - the mosquito was back - and he swatted at it again, 'what is that buzzing?'_

* * *

Kali held the crystal in her hand, it glowed orange and her eyes turned white. 'Hear me Angelus. Heed my warning. Awaken at once, return from darkness.' Nothing happened - and her eyes went back to normal. 'Or just lie there and let your friends and their new witch pal put your soul back, whichever!' she said, sounding pissed.

* * *

Wesley watched, as Willow prepared for her spell, down in the lobby. There was a jar of some greenish liquid in front of her and it was bubbling away. 'Look, it's working,' she said to him, excitedly.

'I thought Delothrian's arrow was used to protect good magicks,' Wesley asked. Willow agreed it was. He frowned, 'So how can you use it to break the jar? The Muo-ping is a sacred object. It's holy.'

But Willow shook her head, it was glass is what it was - and therefore crunchable. The sacred was what was inside. 'All life a container…' she said.

'For the heart of all life,' Wesley finished up, smiling with understanding. 'You've studied the Daharim.'

'It had to be something specific.' Willow explained. 'There's lots of jars in the world - can't shatter them all.' She thought about it - thought about the extent of her power, 'I mean, you could, but good things come in jars. Peanut butter, jelly, those two-headed fetal pigs at the natural history museum.' Wesley didn't respond. She smiled at him, encouragingly, 'come on, everybody loves fetal pigs.'

'I'm sorry,' he leaned towards her, 'I think my sense of humour's trapped in a jar somewhere.'

She looked him up and down and smiled, gently, 'does seem like you've given in to the grumpy side of the force.'

He thought about it - about everything that had happened since Sunnydale - everything he'd done wrong since then, every mistake - everything lost … the little boy upstairs… 'A lot's happened,' he explained, 'not just Angelus… I've been - I've changed. I've seen a darkness in myself. I'm not sure you'd even begin to understand -'

'I flayed a guy alive and tried to destroy the world,' she interrupted, cheerfully. Wesley looked taken aback - and reassessed his own dark deeds. 'Oh … so …'

'Darkness, been there.'

'Yes, well - I never... flayed …' he squirmed at the thought and then pushed it away and looked for his own darkest act. 'I had a woman chained in a closet.'

'Hey,' Willow said - encouragingly.

But he shook his head, she was being kind. 'It doesn't compare,' he said, hurriedly.

'No, dark - that's dark,' she assured him, 'you've been to a place.'

He looked her over. She had brutally tortured and killed a man - sought to end all life - and here she was comforting him, smiling her warm, friendly smile. It was like she had shrugged the darkness off. She had touched it but it had not touched her. He wondered how she could be like that - how she had come back from where she had been - found her way back to herself. He despaired - so often - that there was no going back for him. 'You seem exactly the same as when I left,' he told her, 'no other major changes I'm not up on?'

She paused for a moment and then shrugged. 'Just little things,' she smiled. 'So - uh - Fred. What's her story?' She tried to keep her voice casual. Wesley stared at her …

* * *

_Angel stared down at the clerk - he was fading fast. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'God, I'm so sorry.' The young man died and Angel stumbled away from him - backing away. But he didn't take his eyes off the dead man on the floor. 'So, who's your big hero, now?' Angelus jeered. _

_Faith was annoyed, 'it wasn't even his fault,' she protested, 'jeez does he have to pay for everything?' _

'_Choices, little girl,' Angelus told her, 'the ones you make with your heart of hearts.' Angel had reached the door, now, but he didn't go through it. He stopped - looked back at the clerk - and then turned the lock. 'Uh oh,' Angelus grinned, 'what's gonna happen?' Angel closed the blinds and walked back towards the dead body. Faith watched him, disbelieving 'he won't…' she said. _

'_I'm deep in, Faith. Soul or no soul.'_

_Angel knelt down next to the cashier and vamped out. He lifted the body upwards - to better get at its neck. 'Angel!' Faith turned away as he bit down, 'ugh!' Her own neck started to bleed - right where Angelus had torn into her in the world above. She put her hand to the wound - and stared at the blood that stained her fingers. 'He was gonna save him!' she cried._

'_But did he_ choose _to be a little slow on the draw?' Angelus demanded of her, 'whoops! Dinner by armed robbery. Look at him Faith, you're a murderer.' She clutched at her neck - it was bleeding heavier and she could feel the blood running between her fingers, slippery and warm. 'You know just how good that blurry line tastes,' he told her. He turned to look at her, seeing her wound - and he smiled, 'you didn't think my hell was private did ya?' _

_Down on the floor, Angel pulled back from the cashier, looked at what he had done - and screamed. _


	59. Orpheus: Part Three

_Part Three_

'It should'na had to end this way,' Doyle said, as he and Cordelia climbed the stairs. They were making their way back to Faith's room - to check on her - and on Lorne. 'When she dies - it's on us. She was safe in prison.'

'Slayers always die young,' Cordelia sighed, 'it's part of the gig - and I guess they just learn to accept it.'

'It's not right.'

'No.'

'Young girls - barely more than children - made to fight the demons and monsters that the rest o' us can't face. The watcher's council … I guess I'd not really thought that much about 'em, before, but what they do is wrong. Wesley's well out of it.'

'I guess he is. And Faith was well out of it, too - until we pulled her back in.' She sighed, again, 'I just don't know how this is gonna affect Angel. When he has his soul back, I mean. Faith was … out of everyone, she was the one he fought the hardest to save - the one whose redemption was most personal to him. And then he killed her. Not him - him. But still him. I don't know how he'll live with that.'

'She was brave and she died in battle,' Doyle said, 'she gave herself willingly to save him … maybe that will be some comfort to him. That it was a sacrifice she wanted to make.'

'Or was it the easy way out?' Cordelia asked. Doyle looked at her, surprised - but she only shrugged, 'she dies a hero, saves Angel - and doesn't have to keep on slogging away at that redemption. It's over. I think his guilt at killing her will be awful. But he'll also be disappointed that she gave in, gave up her life rather than kept on fighting to make amends. And then he'll feel guilty about feeling _that_ \- because she gave up her life for him. There's no good here - it's just gonna tear him apart. And Faith will still be dead.'

'But that's the future,' Doyle said, 'now - we gotta be here for Faith - until she … well, until she can rest.' He shook his head, sadly, 'I just wish it didn't have to end this way. She really did try her hardest to turn everythin' around.'

'I know,' Cordelia said, quietly.

'That can't have been easy. I've tried - and failed - to turn everythin' around, a few times now. I always end up back where I started. Faith - she was the real deal in the hero department. In the end - anyways.'

'So are you, Doyle,' Cordelia said to him, he looked at her, again, once more surprised by her words. She smiled, 'You try,' she told him, 'sure you fail, but you keep on trying. You always pick yourself up, dust yourself off - and try again. That means … well, it means everything, really.'

'You really think so?'

'I think it - I say it - it's my way.'

He smiled at her - but the smile died on his face as they reached the door and found Lorne sitting on the bed, wiping tears from Faith's cheeks. 'She's in the barrens, now,' the demon told them. 'They cry for a while. Quiet mostly. Like they're letting go of everything that meant something.'

'I wonder what it is she has to let go of,' Cordelia said, softly. Faith's life had always seemed so empty. Cordelia couldn't work out what it was that she would miss - maybe just life itself. There had certainly never seemed to be any one person for the slayer to cling on to, who mattered above all else - who warranted that final goodbye. Down at her side, almost unbidden by her mind, Cordy's hand reached out and grasped at Doyle's - her fingers locking with his. He glanced down - and then up at her - she didn't even seem to have noticed that she was holding onto him.

'How long does she have left?' Doyle asked, 'until…'

'Not long,' Lorne looked down at her sadly, his voice soft. 'But I'll be here with her - until it's done.'

Wesley came into the room, then. He stared at Faith for a long time - a hollow eyed, dead stare - and then he turned to Doyle and Cordy. 'It's time,' he said.

* * *

Willow had finished preparing her spell to conjure Delothrian's arrow. She had set Fred to sanctifying the lobby. The young woman walked up and down, carrying a white candle and ringing little silver bells. Willow walked past her, smiling, and stopped to tilt her chin up. Fred giggled and walked on - her head now raised like she was in a beauty pageant. 'You're good,' Willow said to her, 'good bells.'

Seated behind the counter, Doyle shook his head, 'I keep tryin' to tell her,' he murmured to Cordelia. Cordy looked confused, 'tell her what?'

'Right,' Willow said, coming up to the front desk and speaking to the others,'now all I gotta do is contact the spirit world, harness the Delothrian ebb, and focus it through my little marble of doom, here.' She held up a small metal ball and smiled, 'and we'll restore the Muo-Ping's entropic equilibrium.'

Gunn though for a moment and then translated her words into something he actually understood, 'jar goes smash?' She nodded, 'smash o crash.' He grinned, 'that's all I need to know - I'll be downstairs in case the prince of darkness wakes up.' He took his leave of them and headed back down to the basement. Willow pushed her sleeves up - readying herself. She felt the eyes of the team on her, 'this should be a snap,' she assured them.

Wesley nodded, 'if you're …' he was cut off by a bolt of orange energy flying through the lobby and knocking Willow off her feet. **'_Stay your hand, witch,' _**The Beastmaster's voice boomed inside her mind. She put her hands up to her head, trying to blot the sound out. Cordelia and Doyle jumped to their feet - looking on in alarm.

* * *

Kali held the crystal - it glowed orange in her hand. 'You will not interfere with what must come to pass,' she said - speaking directly to Willow and Willow alone.

* * *

Willow got back to her feet - and began to mumble in a foreign tongue. 'Invadoria disparu!'

**'_You think to banish me?'_**

Willow looked up at Wesley, she was still clutching her head, 'there's someone in my head,' she told him.

**'_As long as his soul is in my protection it will never be freed.'_**

Willow dropped her hands down by her side and stared up at the ceiling, invoking as much power as she could muster to stand against this invasion. 'Vetsche invadoria disparu!' She felt the energy leave her, like a massive charge - it flew out into the ether - blocking the interloper from her mind.

* * *

Up in Angel's room, the orange crystal in Kali's hand exploded - as Willow's spell found it. Kali jumped in surprise, looking shocked. 'I'th bid my thounge.'

* * *

Willow sagged with relief - as she realised that whoever had got inside her head was no longer there. She had blocked them. Wesley was by her side, 'he's enormously powerful,' he told her, 'the dead Beast's master. He contacted Angelus the same way.'

'He wants to stop us getting the soul,' Fred said. Doyle frowned, 'but how does it know what we're doin'?' He asked, quietly, 'how does it know that Willow's here?'

'It must have eyes everywhere,' Cordelia said , 'minions and enchantments and who knows what? It's not gonna let us win.'

But Willow's eyes had turned black, 'it's not gonna stop me,' she said. She held the marble out, on the palm of her hand. The metal ball began to float, just a few inches from the surface of her skin - and then it began to glow. 'Open the window, fill this stone. Outside. Inside. Two made one.' She chanted.

* * *

Up in her room, Kali felt the forces of the magicks being unleashed. 'You wanna go, Glinda?' she asked, 'let's go.' She sent out another bolt of energy.

* * *

Willow was knocked to the floor again - as the orange charge slammed into her. 'Are you sure she can take this?' Doyle asked Wesley. Cordelia was looking scared, 'it's hurting her - we should stop.'

But Willow got to her feet once more. She stared at the glowing ball floating just above her hand - focusing all her will on it. 'Alesh ashtoreth!' The ground began to rumble and quake beneath their feet.

'I think she can hold her own,' Wesley said.

* * *

Lorne gripped Faith's hand, as the building rattled and shook around them. He hoped she didn't notice - that it didn't disturb her - wherever she was. 'It's OK, Faith,' he said, softly, 'It's OK. You just wait. They'll get Angel back and …' he tried to convince himself as much as he tried to convince the sleeping girl, 'it'll all be worth it. It'll all...'

Faith suddenly sat up on the bed, her eyes open - but blank and staring. She was gasping - heavy, pained breaths.

* * *

_She looked around. She was in alleyway - there was trash everywhere - the whole place stank. She seemed to be alone - but she could hear a voice. 'It'll all be worth it.' Angelus. But she couldn't see him. 'Is that what you try to tell yourself, Faithy?' his voice was a pernicious whisper in her ear, 'is that the nasty little lie that kept those thighs nice and warm in your prison bunk?'_

_She twisted around looking for him, 'you kiss your mama with that mouth?'_

_He appeared behind her, 'no - but I ate her with it.' He looked the slayer up and down - 'and now for some poetry,' he said, mocking, ' 'Faith goes gently into that good night' - you're fading fast, baby, I can feel it.' _

_She could feel it too - but she wasn't done yet. 'All the same I hear this holler in the distance …'_

* * *

Willow stood in the middle of the lobby - her eyes black - even her roots were turning black. 'Semsa nahl eresh a'lahm!'

* * *

'..._Tells me you're about to get what's coming to you.'_

_But Angelus wasn't convinced. He had friends in high places. Further down the alleyway, Angel appeared - stumbling around the corner. His hair was long and dirty and bedraggled - his clothes were old and torn. His skin was grimy. Angelus rolled his eyes at the sight of him. 'Him not being one of them.'_

_Faith turned to look - just as Angel dove on a scampering rat. He grabbed it and sunk his teeth into the squeaking, terrified creature. 'Ugh,' Faith wrinkled her nose in disgust,'when is this?'_

'_When isn't this?' Angelus asked impatiently. 'Twenty years after that stupid donut shop and his fingers never smelled of anything but rat! 'I'm so sorry! I give up! I'm gonna live in a sewer!'' He mocked the pain and guilt of his other self. _

'_He's paying for what he did,' Faith told him._

'_He's_ hiding _from what he_ is_,' Angelus corrected. 'Which might be a big psych 101 revelation for you, cupcake, but I already know this crap - so why do I have to go through it again?' _

_Down the alleyway, Angel got to his feet. 'Maybe 'cause it's not about you - jackass.'_

* * *

The team stood in the lobby, surrounding Willow - who still had control of the floating marble just above her palm. The floor quaked beneath their feet. 'Do you feel that?' Wesley asked - rather unnecessarily - of course they all did. Cordelia looked around, wide eyed, 'it's like there's something evil rising in the hotel,' she whispered.

* * *

Down in the basement, Gunn glanced down as the floor beneath his feet shook. In the cage, Angelus slept on.

* * *

Up in Angel's living room, the Groosalug looked around - the walls were shaking and the floorboards beneath them were rattling. Connor began to cry. 'Hush, little friend,' the Groosalug said to him, 'I will protect you from whatever evil this is.' Then he glanced towards Angel's bedroom door. Kalimania was alone in there - unprotected as this storm of magic raged throughout the hotel. She had said she did not want to be disturbed - but neither she nor Groo had known what was going to happen. He worried. He thought he should check on her. But she didn't want to be disturbed … but he had sworn to protect her, no matter what ...

* * *

Kali's eyes had gone completely white. She had the Muo-ping in front of her and was chanting over it. 'Seiza jai n'hast engai... Seiza jai n'hast engai…'

* * *

Down in the lobby - the floors shook and the windows rattled and then, right above their heads, the air began to swirl. A mist descended and then shaped itself into a giant, demonic head with glowing eyes. It roared at them. 'Dear … sweet…' Doyle stared up at it, 'what the hell is that thing?'

'Just ignore it!' Willow commanded.

They all looked away - and the giant head dissipated back into mist. Willow looked down at the glowing marble. 'Find your target. Leave my side.'

* * *

'OK,' Kali muttered to herself, 'huge floaty head not enough to scare you? Then why don't we try …' the glowing marble - Delothrian's arrow - zoomed towards the Muo-Ping. Kali gasped and put her hand out - using her will to stop it mid air. It was fighting back - it was taking all her concentration to keep it steady. 'Now, she is getting on my last nerve,' she swore.

* * *

Willow could feel some kind of force blocking the arrow from finding it's target. She concentrated harder - pushing back - using all her force to move the marble just one inch more… 'Geth na haroth castellum tol.'

* * *

Kali was straining just as hard, in the equal and opposite direction. 'If only this were a few weeks later,' she gasped to herself - using every last fibre of her power to repel the glowing marble.

* * *

Groo got to his feet - he would just check on her - open the door and check she was sleeping.

* * *

'Break the glass!' Willow yelled out into the void, 'let loose the soul!'

* * *

The Groosalug tried the door - but it wouldn't budge, it was locked - or Kali had blocked it, somehow. He frowned. 'My Lady?' he knocked on the door - hard and sharp, 'My Lady are you well, in there?' There was no answer - so he banged even harder on the door.

* * *

Kali jumped - the banging startled her. And in that moment, her concentration slipped - and the glowing marble, Delothrian's arrow, hurtled the last few inches into the Muo-ping. The glass jar smashed to pieces - and the glowing, swirling, white soul, within, seeped out into the atmosphere. She looked back at the fragments of glass. 'Oh sh-'

* * *

_Angelus stared at his other self - in hatred and disgust. 'I don't believe this!' he spat, 'you're the one behind this whole True Hollywood sob-story?' _

'_Angel,' Faith said,'it's good to see you.' She looked him up and down - taking in his tattered appearance, 'hate the hair.'_

_Angel looked away from Angelus for a moment to glance at her, 'Faith, what are you still doing here?' _

'_Just waiting to see this pervert get stuffed back into the deep, crazy ground he came from,' she shrugged. _

'_Then what? After that - what happens?'_

_Angelus kicked out - connecting with Faith's chest. Unlike before - when they had just passed through each other - he actually managed to land the blow. She fell over - landing heavily amongst the bags of trash. The vampire chuckled, 'Probably something like that,' he told his alter ego, 'I had a feeling the rules had changed.'_

_Angel shook his head, 'she's not the one you're after.'_

'_No kidding, rat boy,' Angelus agreed, chuckling, 'the slayer will just be gravy, once I finish you off.' The two vampires looked each up and down - each disgusted by his other self. But both connected. When they spoke, it was in perfect unison. 'I've been waiting a long time for this.' And then they launched at each other - ready to figh_t.


	60. Orpheus: Part Four

_Part Four_

_The two vampires fought - savage and brutal - a hundred years worth of hatred and bitterness coming out in their blows. Angel managed to smack Angelus away from himself. The evil twin staggered back - leaving the good twin open, and he took that moment to turn back to Faith. She was still lying amongst the trashbags, bleeding - and too weak to get up. He crouched down in front of her. 'Faith! Get up! Are you listening?'_

_She rolled her head so she could see him better, 'Angel, I'm dying,' she croaked - her voice was weak. She was fading. She could feel the life slipping away from her. But she'd done her job - Angel was here, now - he could do the rest. It was time to sleep. _

_But Angel had other ideas, 'yeah, it's a lot easier than redemption, huh?' He turned and jumped back to his feet, kicking Angelus as the soulless vampire crept up on him. Angelus grabbed him around the neck. 'Always so concerned with the human condition,' he sneered - he threw Angel away from himself - and Angel tumbled down the alley, falling over a garbage can and rolling on the floor. 'It's no big mystery, man: they suffer, they die - that's what they're there for.'_

_Angel launched himself at his other self - and as he fought back, he turned to Faith, 'I'm not perfect,' he told her- smacking Angelus, 'even with a soul, I've done things I've wished a thousand times I could take back.'_

'_Yeah like those Manilow concerts!' Angelus hit him - sending him tumbling down the alley, once more. 'Son of a bitch!'_

* * *

The Groosalug put his shoulder against the door and pushed with all his might, 'My Lady!' he heaved, again - and broke through. The door had been barricaded - a dresser pulled across, blocking the entrance. As he squeezed through the space - a vase came crashing down on his head, smashing around his ears. He looked confused. Kali's eyes opened wide, 'Oh - Groo - I'm sorry!' she apologised, her voice high and trembling. 'I thought it came back…' tears shone in her eyes, 'there was this horrible, floaty head and I thought …'

'Are you hurt, My Lady?' He asked, his brow furrowed in concern, 'your child?'

'We were nearly killed!' she told him - her voice wandering up an octave.

'What happened?'

'It's the magic!' Kali breathed, 'the witch - in the hotel - she is playing with forces she can't control - or doesn't want to control.' The tears hung in her eyes - large and luminous - and she blinked, letting them fall, tracking their way down her face. 'Remember what I told you?' she gasped, 'they are out of their depths - lost their minds in the fight against evil, not knowing where to turn. To defeat The Beast they brought Angelus, to bring down Angelus they brought in that killer - the girl who slays demon and man without care - and now, to return the vampire's soul they have brought in this witch. Doyle said she is a killer, as well. Her power is great - but evil, she uses it for evil - and now that evil is loose in the hotel. It came for me. It came for my baby.'

'Then it is not safe for you here - we must leave.'

'It's not safe for me anywhere,' she wept.

'Then I will make this witch stop her magicks.'

'You can't,' Kali shook her head, 'she's too powerful.' She lowered her voice - making it a hurried whisper, 'there's only one thing you can do now - to protect me, to keep my baby safe - to let us be the little family we always wanted.'

'Anything, Lady.'

'Kill Angelus,' she hissed. 'Kill him now - before anything else goes wrong. It's the only way to guarantee our little family's safety.'

The Groosalug drew back from her - confusion darkening his eyes. 'But the witch will bring him back. He will be Angel - a brave and fearsome champion, once more. He can do much good.'

But Kali shook her head. 'The witch has opened a gateway to hell,' she told him, 'all manner of evil is loose - and they can't fight it. And they won't stop - they won't stop trying to bring back Angel until Angelus is dead. Who knows what they will bring into this world next - in a vain attempt to save their friend? We have to stop them - once and for all. You have to kill Angelus, it's the only thing that will stop them from reaching deeper and deeper into the darkness.'

'Are you sure this is right? It troubles me…'

She nodded her head, 'I know it in my heart, now. You're not just protecting me. You're protecting the world. Sometimes, one death can spare infinite pain.'

'And what of the sanctuary spell? I am a demon - it is where my strength comes from.' He frowned again, 'how were you able to hit me?' he asked her, 'you too, should be bound by the spell.'

'I'm special,' she whispered to him, 'my baby is special - it changes the rules. We're special, Groo - I can fix the spell. Make it so you can kill Angelus. But you must do it now - whilst they're still busy - before anyone realises what you are up to. They will fight you - if they know. And they will unleash all hell by stopping you. Go - now.'

He nodded and - with a backwards glance at her- grabbed his sword and made his way, silently, through the hotel - headed for the basement.

* * *

'It's released,' Willow told them, 'his soul - I can feel it. Now for the next part.'

'You're sure you can do this?' Wesley asked, 'sure it will work?'

'It worked last time.' She looked at Fred, 'ready when you are.' Fred began to read in Latin - the role Oz had performed, so many years ago. 'Quod perditum est invenietur…'

Wesley wafted the incense burner around - and Willow began to chant.

Cordelia got up - and walked away from the small group. She went over to the doors, pushed them open and stepped out into the courtyard. Doyle frowned, watching her - wondering why she was walking away at this crucial moment. He glanced at Wesley - and then got up and followed her out.

...

She was stood in the middle of the garden, near the fountain - her arms wrapped around her, looking up at the moon.

'Y'know it's not safe out here, darlin',' Doyle said to her, staying by the door, 'the sanctuary spell doesn't extend this far.'

'It's not exactly safe in there, right now, either - is it?'

'And yet - I don't think it's the big, floaty head you're runnin' away from,' he said to her, 'what's wrong, Cordy?'

'I've been here before,' she said - still not looking at him, 'seen this before. Willow will work her mojo - and Angel gets his soul back, like it was never gone.'

'Yeah … isn't that a good thing?'

She sighed and hugged herself tighter, 'bye bye, Angelus? Sure - that's for the good, but … the other thing … I don't know what that will mean.'

He frowned in confusion, 'I don't understand.'

'Before we took his soul - Angel and I were … well, we were trying to … and now, when he's back - he'll be expecting …' she trailed off and hung her head. 'And that's just not what I feel anymore,' she whispered.

'What do you feel, now?' Doyle asked her - keeping his voice as low as hers had been. She bit her lip - there was a long pause - a tense silence. She turned slightly, so she could just see him - out of the corner of her eye. 'You know what I feel, now…' she said, eventually - her voice barely more than a whisper.

...

'Nisi mort. Nisi al finitei. Te invoc, spirit al trecerii…' Willow read from the book. The orb of Thesulah stood beside her on the counter, blank and dark.

* * *

_Faith's eyes were closed now - she hadn't the strength to open them, hadn't the will to look at the world around her. 'Faith, Wake up!' Angel yelled at her- punching Angelus and turning back to her. She stirred. 'I rolled the bones,' she muttered - her eyes fluttering but not opening, properly, 'you for me.'_

_Angel abandoned the fight - leaving Angelus down the alleyway, he walked over to the dying girl. 'I used to think that,' he said to her, 'That there'd be a point where I'd paid my dues…' _

_Angelus snuck up behind him and hit him around the back of the head, 'hello!' he said, 'anybody notice a battle with your alter ego going on here?' _

_Angel turned and pushed him away. He smacked him down and then returned to Faith's side - taking her in his arms and holding her. 'Faith, listen to me. You saw me drink. It doesn't get much lower than that. And I thought I could make up for it by disappearing.'_

'_I did my time,' she moaned to him._

'_Our time is never up, Faith. We pay for everything.'_

'_It hurts,' she whimpered. It hurt so much - the pain of what she'd done- what she was - the drug running through her - the gash in her neck, the blood loss. It all hurt so much. It was all too much. She just wanted to rest. Rest now - and be done…_

'_I know,' Angel said to her, still cradling her, 'I know.'_

* * *

The Groosalug walked down the landing - he peered over the lobby; he could see the small group, huddled, performing their dark magicks. 'Te implor doamne. Nu ignora accasta rugaminte lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transporta sufletul la el,' the red headed witch chanted. He gripped his sword tighter and slipped down the side stairs - making his way to the basement.

Gunn was down there - a brave warrior - a fearsome fighter, like himself. He hated to do this, but he must do as his lady bid in order to protect her child - his majesty's child - and, like the others, this warrior was blinded to the darkness of the path he followed.

Gunn got to his feet, 'Groo,' he said - sounding surprised, 'how come you're…'

The Groosalug swung his fist - and knocked Gunn out cold., He fell to the floor and the undefeated champion stepped over his body. 'My apologies, friend,' he said, 'you are a brave warrior and it grieves me to harm you.' Then he walked over to the cage - and looked down at the sleeping vampire.

* * *

Lorne watched Faith - not long now. She seemed distressed. It hurt to watch her in pain - when this was her last few moments on earth. It should be easier for her than this - she deserved for it to be easier. Not long now - and then she could sleep.

* * *

'_Get up!' Angel yelled at her - as she lolled in his arms - her eyes fluttering but never opening, 'You have to get up now. Faith, you have to fight. I need you to fight. Do you understand what I'm saying?'_

_Angelus whacked him around the back of the head with a metal pipe - and he dropped the slayer and tumbled to the ground. 'What won't I miss?' Angelus asked, rhetorically, 'The moralizing. Soul's already in the ether, boyo. I can smell it. How 'bout I send it off to that big puppy rescue in the sky?'_

'_Arf arf psycho.' _

_He turned around - Faith was stood there, behind him - awake, alive - whole. 'Faith,' he said to her, 'getting back in the game.'_

_She shrugged, 'guess I am.' He swung the metal pipe at her- and she vanished. He hit nothing but air. The slayer was gone._

* * *

Lorne jumped back, as Faith suddenly opened her eyes and sprang up from the bed. He stared after her in disbelief, as she jumped across the room and ran out of the door.

* * *

Willow was still chanting. 'Asa sa fie, acum.' The orb of Thesulah glowed a bright white - as Angel's soul was channelled into it. 'Acum!'

* * *

_Both Angelus and Angel were suddenly seized by a sudden pain running through them - they froze, unable to move as a familiar burning took hold of them. They began to glow- reddish white light pouring from their eyes and mouth - and then the two beings merged into one. Angelus vanished inside of him and Angel was left standing out in the alleyway - all alone._

* * *

'I need to fight you,' the chained vampire muttered in his sleep. The Groosalug stared down at him, his sword raised, 'you will not have the chance,' he said. The blade dropped. And then stopped mid air - a hand wrapped around it. Groo looked to the side. The warrior girl - the killer - was awake - and holding his sword. He had not encountered such strength before. She ripped the blade from him and then swung her fist. He stumbled backwards, out of the cage - and Faith jumped up, swinging from the door frame and kicking him across the room. He hit the wall and rolled. She jumped down and thumped him again.

...

The basement door opened and Lorne came racing in - Fred and Wesley, Doyle and Cordy piling in behind him. 'Look! She's alive' he pointed at her, 'it's a miracle.'

...

Faith grabbed the Groosalug by his long hair and then slammed his head against the wall, He passed out and she dropped him to the ground.

'Uh - hello?' a voice called out from the cage, 'is there any chance I could be untied, please?' Angel was finally awake.

* * *

Faith and Angel were out in the courtyard talking, the rest of the team were leaving them to it - they had a lot to talk about. Doyle and Cordy made their way up the stairs, to go and fetch Connor - so Angel could be with his son, after all this time.

As they climbed up towards the top floor, Cordelia slid her hand into Doyle's and their fingers locked together. He turned to look at her - but she only smiled at him. He said nothing - and they carried on their way, holding onto each other as if they had never been apart.

Doyle knocked on the door and then entered. Kali was inside - still on the sofa, still wrapped in her blanket. 'We've got good news,' he told her, 'Angel's back, we got his soul back.'

'Which means this little fella can go downstairs, at last,' Cordelia smiled down at Connor.

'That's ... wonderful,' Kali said. 'The Groosalug…?

'Oh yeah - he tried to kill Angel,' Doyle said, 'we're not sure why. We can ask him when he wakes up.'

'He was made afraid by all the magicks going on - the walls shaking, the floor - that floaty head,' Kali told them, 'he decided that all the evil unleashed in the hotel posed too great a risk to Connor. You know Groo - he can really only grasp one concept at a time - and he was in full on protector mode. He said that the only way to stop the evil - to protect Connor - was to kill Angel, so you wouldn't need to do the spell any more.' She frowned, 'I tried to stop him - to talk him out of it but …'

'Groo's not the world's greatest thinker,' Doyle finished up for her. She nodded, 'poor fella,' the Irishman said, 'still - he'll be OK once he's woken up. And Angel's not one to hold a grudge.'

'Especially as it was done for Connor,' Cordy added. 'But why didn't you stop him? Or come and tell someone?'

Kali looked startled. She cast around, looking for a plausible excuse - and noticed the way the two of them were holding hands. Her eyes narrowed, changing the subject would do. 'So … you two seem to have worked out your differences,' she nodded at their hands, 'what does this mean? For the two of you?' she frowned, 'for Angel?'

Doyle and Cordelia looked at each other, they were both smiling, shy and uncertain - but they didn't have a direct answer to her question. 'Well, we better get this little fella downstairs,' Doyle said, dropping Cordy's hand and picking Connor up. He handed the baby over to Cordelia who jigged him up and down, 'yeah,' she smiled at him, 'let's go see daddy. He's missed you.' She started to leave the room. Doyle turned back, 'you comin'?' he asked Kali.

She smiled at him weakly, 'you guys go on - I'll be there in a minute.'

* * *

'So how are you feeling?' Angel asked.

'Like I did mushrooms and got eaten by a bear.'

He smiled, 'that about sums it up … and now you're going to Sunnydale?' Faith smiled, wryly, 'I think I prefer the bear,' she admitted - Sunnydale, that place held memories … and B. She wasn't sure if she was ready - if she would ever be ready …'but the way Willow talks it up, that's where I'm needed.'

'Never stop fighting,' he said to her, leaning on the rail. She grinned at him, 'hey - I was gonna. But then someone got all pep talky on me.'

'Yeah,' he chuckled, a little ruefully. 'I'm sorry I didn't get to see you,' he told her, 'our little brain tour notwithstanding.'

'Another time.'

He pushed himself away from the rail, standing up, properly. 'I have a lot to thank you for.'

'The vice is plenty versa,' she assured him. 'I even start and it's gonna lead to hugging and …' she shrugged and smiled. He smiled back, 'we wouldn't want that.'

'No.'

They walked back inside.

* * *

Doyle and Cordy were coming down the stairs - Connor was in Cordelia's arms. He looked up at her - and his face broke out into a broad grin. He held his arms out - and she passed him the baby. He held his son close, clinging onto him. Whatever had happened - the lines Angelus had crossed - the things he had broken, at least he hadn't got Connor. At least they had protected his son. He just stood there - in his own world, holding Connor - as the others moved around him.

'You headed out?' Gunn asked Faith.

'Yeah, no tears big guy,' they high fived.

'Nah, I'm good.'

She walked up to Wesley - and nodded at him, 'Wes.' He nodded back, 'Faith.' She turned and looked at the others, 'see - Brits know how to say goodbye, Angel wanted to hug.'

Angel looked up from Connor and looked around, embarrassed, 'what - no I didn't.'

Willow and Fred walked out of the office, then - carrying some books. Fred was extra smiley - even for her. 'I have to say, someday I'd love to bend your ear about the Pergamum Codex. I—I think some of the really obscure passages are actually Latin translated from a demonic tongue, and they're kind of a hoot.' She giggled.

Doyle raised an eyebrow - 'uh … Darlin'?'

But Fred wasn't listening - she was still in full on gushing mode, talking to Willow. 'All this stuff about Bacchanals and spells and—actually, I think it's probably funnier in Latin. You know how that is sometimes?'

Willow looked at her for a moment - awkward, 'I'm seeing someone.'

Fred stopped smiling and instead looked very confused, 'oh - uh…'

Doyle leaned across the counter, 'I been tryin' to tell y' all night,' he whispered to her. She gave him a flustered look.

Willow had turned to Cordelia, now - 'Well, Cordy - I guess … I'll speak to you next time the world is ending?'

'So that'll be in about a week's time,' Cordy laughed, 'give me love to everyone,' she said … then she frowned, 'I mean … don't say it like that, just - say Cordy said 'hey' - or something. And have a drink at The Bronze for me.'

'Sure thing,' Willow glanced down - and saw that Cordelia was holding Doyle's hand, now. 'Did things move on from earlier?' she asked, 'you said before…'

'Why - are you getting ideas?'

'Gay now! How many times!' She laughed - and gave Cordelia a hug. 'I think he suits you better than Xander, anyway,' she whispered.

'Time goes by, Will,' Faith said - if she was headed back to Sunnydale - and she must be crazy to do it - then she just wanted to dive in. Didn't want time to think about it - or second guess herself … or worry what B would say.

'Right,' Willow broke away from Cordy and turned back to the others, 'OK. Good. Wagons west. See you guys.'

'Willow,' absentmindedly, Angel handed Connor to Wesley and walked towards the witch. Wesley looked surprised and alarmed to be holding the little boy and - after a moment - passed him straight to Fred.

'He's gonna tell you how much he owes you,' Faith said. Willow smiled, looking touched. 'Aw, don't mention it. I got a slayer out of the deal, so we're even-steven.' She gave him a hug. 'I'll tell Buffy you said 'hi',' she said, pulling away.

'Good, thanks,' he shot an awkward glance at Cordelia - but Cordy didn't seem to have noticed.

Willow and Faith started to leave but, as she got to the door, the witch turned back to look at them, 'oh, um, next time you guys resurrect Angelus - call me first, OK?' She gave them one last smile - and then she and the slayer were gone - leaving the team alone, and complete, for the first time in months.

Angel took Connor back off Fred and turned to look at all his friends - he was smiling. This was … how it was always meant to be. Evil defeated - and the family together. This was as good as it got. 'So, we're back.'

'So it would seem,' Wesley said.

'Look - I know things have been -'

'I hate to interrupt the touching family reunion,' a voice said from on the stairs. They all turned to look. Kali was walking down towards them, 'but if this is the speech about how the worst is behind you all … then you might want to save it for later.' They stared at her - as she ran her hands over her belly, caressing her impossibly large pregnancy bump.

* * *

**A/N next episode is 'Players'.**


	61. Players: Part One

**Players**

_Part One_

They all stared at Kali. The demon woman smiled at them and stroked the roundness of her swollen belly. 'I know that it's a shock,' she said to them, 'and the baby's growing so fast - but this is a good thing, I know it.'

Startled silence continued to reign. Eventually Fred shook her head and forced herself to speak, 'no … good… congratulations - I guess. It's just - shock … yeah. Big shock. I mean, you weren't pregnant when you went upstairs with Connor.'

'Oh, I was,' Kali smiled, 'I just didn't know it until a little while later.' She glanced down at the bump, 'but this is still fast - I know. It's only been a matter of weeks but my time is already near, I feel it.' She looked up again, 'I've not been hiding, or anything, I just … what with Angelus and the slayer and The Beast and all - I didn't wanna be a distraction.'

There was more startled silence. The door opened and Lorne - having seen Faith off - came back inside. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Kali - and her massive pregnancy bump. 'Wha…? Put me on the short bus and send me off to clueless school.' He looked around at the others, 'a mystical pregnancy right under my beak and not even a tingle - huh.'

'You wouldn't have been a distraction,' Doyle said, finding his voice at last. 'We know - ever since we met y' - that your destiny is wrapped up in this big evil that's comin'. Well - this must be it. Your baby must have been the thing that Lorne saw all that time ago - slouchin' towards Bethlehem or whatever.'

'It's apocalypse spawn,' Gunn nodded. Kali looked affronted. She massaged her bump and smiled down at it for a moment, before looking up at them again. Her hands kept rubbing the whole time she was talking. 'That isn't true,' she said, 'I know - I can feel it, in my heart, in my soul - my sweet baby is good.' Angel frowned, as she spoke, but she didn't notice. 'I know it's hard to understand. None of you have ever had a living being growing inside of you…'

Cordelia raised her hand, 'actually...'

But Kali carried on like there was no interruption, 'but this, my sweet baby … we're connected.' Her eyes shone as she spoke - her face was flushed. The others looked at each other uneasily. She was so fervent - they didn't like it. There was a light in her eye - evangelical, almost. 'I feel what it feels,' she told them, breathlessly. 'I can't explain it, but I can sense it's goodness, it's love.'

'right, OK, this might be the dumb question,' Gunn said, 'but who's the father - if you were already pregnant before you spent all those nights locked up alone with the Groosalug?'

'Is it the Groosalug?' Wesley asked, 'his coming here from another dimension, just as the apocalypse started, can hardly be a coincidence. Like the Tro-clon last year - a confluence of events…'

'It's not Groo,' Kali said, 'he was never my champion.' She smiled at Doyle, 'the answer is among you,' she used the words of the little girl from the white room.

Everyone turned to stare at Doyle. Cordelia dropped her hand from his. Doyle stared back at Kali. He could feel the sudden warmth in his face - as his skin reddened and the blood pounded in his ears. His stomach felt like he'd just missed a step in the dark. 'No,' he said.

'Yes,' Kali replied.

'No.' He was aware of everyone staring at him. He could feel Cordelia's eyes on him the most keenly - was aware of the emptiness in his hand - where her own had been up until a moment ago. He turned to look at her, 'it can't be mine,' he said to her. 'I would never … not with another woman, I love _you_. And … you _know_ it can't be mine.' He hung his head, 'we both know it,' he mumbled. 'I can't be the father.'

Angel shifted his grip on Connor, so he could see over the baby's head - his brow was furrowed. He didn't like the way Doyle was back to telling Cordy he loved her … but that wasn't the problem right now. 'Why can't you be the father?' he asked.

'Yes - you've spoken of memory loss,' Wesley pointed out, 'it's possible...'

'It's not.'

'But how can you be sure? If you can't remember?' Wesley pressed.

'It's not that.'

'Then what?'

But Doyle just looked down at his shoes, and didn't say anything. It was Cordelia who answered for him. 'He can't have children,' she said, her voice was small. She glanced at Doyle to see if he wanted to stop her from talking - but he didn't move, so she carried on. 'We've known for years. He found out when we were in Pylea - the head priest guy told him that half demons can't … y'know … like mules.' Doyle inhaled sharply, but when he made no other sound, Cordy carried on with her tale. 'Doyle went for tests as soon as we got back to this dimension. The doctors confirmed what the Priest said. He can't…'

'Well, he did,' Kali cut in.

'I'm sorry, Doyle,' Fred said, 'but - vampires can't have children, either - and we got Connor. A child of not one but two vampires. If this is mystical - then I don't think your … _circumstances_ matter.'

'Oh it's mystical, alright,' Kali said, 'my baby is a miracle - of course Doyle can be the father. He _is_ the father. I should know - I was there!' She looked around at them - at their shocked faces - at Doyle frozen, in the middle of the room, surrounded by his family and yet totally isolated - his head hung low, his face burning - at the misery of being reminded of his inability to have children, the shame of having all his friends find out - and the pain of fathering a mystical demon child with a woman he didn't love, didn't remember sleeping with, when he could never have a family of his own - with Cordelia.

'I guess maybe you all weren't ready to hear this,' she said. 'Maybe I should have waited a bit longer.' Beneath her fingers, she felt the baby move - and quickly turned from the group; the tremors beneath her skin betraying the fact that the life inside her was clearly not humanoid. There were too many limbs - tentacles. She turned so they wouldn't see. 'But there isn't much time to wait. My baby will be here soon - bringing all the love and goodness in the world - then you'll see.' She began to climb the stairs, headed back to her room, 'you'll all see.'

The team followed her leaving with their eyes - apart from Doyle who still stood frozen to the spot, head hanging low - and once she was gone, they all turned back and stared at him.

* * *

A man stood alone in the middle of a plaza, beside a bubbling fountain. He wore a trench coat - and glanced around nervously at the people passing by - following one person, and then a couple, with his eyes - checking they weren't looking at him. When he turned back round, Gwen Raiden was stood right behind him. He jumped 'how did you do that?' he asked her. She only shrugged, 'I'm a thief. Did you get my stuff?'

He glanced around nervously, again, before he answered her; she sighed. He'd never done this before - that much was clear. 'Let me give you a tip, sugar bear,' she said, linking her arm with his and walking him across the plaza, 'There are over eight million people in this city, and as far as anyone can tell, we're just two of 'em. Just a normal couple. Nobody's gonna give us a second look if you just stop acting shifty.'

He broke away from her and stopped walking, turning to face her. 'These are dangerous people you're going up against,' he warned her. 'If they catch you, they'll kill you.'

But she knew the risks - and she was going in, whether he helped her or not. 'And I'm not coming back out without Lisa,' she told him. She took out a thick envelope, 'so how about it - we gonna dance?' she shoved the envelope into his breast pocket. He stared down at it - and then took out a manilla envelope of his own from under his trench coat. 'That's everything. Security, blue prints, background.'

She took it from him and smiled - 'there, that wasn't so bad, was it?'

'So, it's obvious - that I've never…'

She smiled, kindly, 'trench coat,' she told him, 'definite rookie mistake.'

'So - next time I should dress more like you,' he glanced up and down - taking in the skin tight leather. 'You know maybe when all this is over you and I could…'

A bolt of lightning hurtled down from the sky and struck Gwen square in the chest - sending her flying backwards. The man jumped, in alarm, and ran off - without looking back.

Gwen rolled over, groaning - and pulled herself upright. 'No that's fine,' she yelled after him, 'I'm OK, really. Thanks for asking.' _Rookies._

* * *

The team were sat down in the lobby. Most of the team - anyway. Doyle had walked away - without saying anything, barely looking at anyone - he'd headed outside and shut the door very firmly. They were giving him his space - for now. Cordelia had also drifted off somewhere - in the opposite direction to Doyle - and Angel was frowning. He didn't like it. He didn't understand why this would bother Cordelia - she had broken up with Doyle ages ago. She was supposed to be with him now.

Sure - they'd gone on hiatus whilst he didn't have a soul - and he accepted that things were going to be a little weird for a while: Angelus had said some pretty nasty things to Cordy, things that made Angel blush just to recall them. He didn't expect her to be OK with that right away - to pick up where they left off. He wasn't unreasonable. Even Buffy had held off dating him when he first got his soul back, last time. Cordy's reticence to be close didn't come as a shock… but her reaction to Doyle fathering a child was all off. He didn't like it. The others were talking, quietly, but he was barely listening. He was worrying about Cordelia's mood - and what it meant.

'I feel kinda bad,' Fred said, 'forcing Doyle to tell us about his infertility that way? He's kept it hidden for years - must be a reason. And now… boom, mystical pregnancy - and all the secrets come spilling out. Maybe we shouldda respected his privacy a bit more?'

'Demon lady with a destiny on her like the Titanic turns up. Sleeps with Doyle. He loses his memory and as quick as you can say 'easy bake oven' there's a gigantic bun in her's … I don't think we got time for privacy,' Gunn said, 'we need to sort this. Understand it.'

'Well,' Fred frowned. 'Kali's a demon - I know her people are, well, _people _\- they're not monsters, they just live quietly in the Florida swamps eatin' cajun otter - but she still is a demon. And Doyle's half demon. Maybe all that demonic heritage explains the…' she gestured a quickly expanding belly, 'woosh factor.'

'Not gonna be long until woosh becomes pop,' Gunn pointed out.

'And then who knows what manner of creature we will be dealing with?' Wesley finished up.

'What do we do, Angel?' Lorne asked. There was no reply, 'Angel? Are you even listening?'

The vampire shook himself out of his reverie, 'easy bake, woosh, pop,' he recounted, 'I got the highlights. I'm just thinking… these last few weeks - with Angelus…'

'You can't feel guilty over anything Angelus did,' Fred said quickly. Angel shook his head, he wasn't, they all knew the risks - though some had paid a higher price than others. 'Angelus didn't kill Kate,' he told them, 'I wish Lindsey were around - so I could tell him that. She was already dead when he fed off her. Killed by The Beast.'

'Well that's … less terrible,' Fred said.

'There's no excuse for what Angelus did to her,' Angel said, 'but … her death was all part of this wider plan. The Beastmaster was at work - here in the hotel - somehow, and for some reason. Now we got two things to figure out - how we're gonna find and destroy the Beastmaster and what the hell is going on with Kali's pregnancy - and if the two are linked.'

'You think everything the Beastmaster has done has been an attempt to get to Kali - to get to her child? That it wants the baby?' Wesley asked. Angel frowned, 'maybe.' He nodded, 'I guess it's a theory… Lorne, you're …'

'Reliable as a _cheap_ fortune cookie?' Lorne finished the sentence- sounding a little bitter. His missing a mystical pregnancy - not to mention his recent failure in reading Doyle - still rankled.

'I was gonna say 'a guy with good contacts'. There have to be rumblings around town about this new player. Talk to your sources. See if anyone knows anyone who might know anything. I'd ask Doyle, but…' he glanced out to where the half demon was still sat alone, in the courtyard, 'his head isn't in the game at the moment.' Well, that was one reason not to ask Doyle ...

'I'm your demon,' Lorne said, getting to his feet. Angel turned to Wesley. When it came to mystical pregnancies they were the experts, he wanted him and Fred to start researching.

'Uh - we'll pull all the files on Darla and her pregnancy and see what we can find,' Wesley promised.

'Gunn, I want you to sit tight for now. It never hurts to have some muscle on deck.' Gunn looked at his boss, annoyed that there wasn't anything more important for him to do. That the only job Angel could find for him was to wait around until they found something he could hit. But Angel didn't even notice. 'In the meantime, there has to be a reason why the Beastmaster wanted Angelus. I'm gonna piece together everything I know—things he said to me when he was in my head, everything he's done. Maybe something will—'

'Strike you?' They all turned to look at the newcomer. Gwen stood just inside the doorway. 'Careful what you wish for.'

Angel looked uncomfortable. This wasn't a great time for a social call - they were kinda busy - apocalypse and all.

'Thing is,' Gwen told him, 'there's a girl in trouble. That's what you guys do, right?'

'Well, yeah.'

'So, I'm in a jam. I can't get out of it alone. I need someone suave, a guy who can handle himself in a tight spot.'

Angel looked pleased at her words. There was a slight swagger about him when he spoke. 'Well, Gwen, I'd love to help but …'

She cut him off and pointed at Gunn. 'I meant him,' she said.

* * *

'You're awake,' Kali smiled as the Groosalug limped back into the room. He nodded, 'forgive me, my lady, I did not manage to kill Angelus. I was stopped and now …'

'Angel has his soul back,' Kali told him, interrupting, 'he's downstairs with the others. I told them about the baby, they're … digesting what it all means.'

The Groosalug looked confused. 'I do not understand,' he said, sitting down, heavily, and looking at Kali.

'Well - they're kinda freaking - which I guess is to be expected, the baby is growing fast. And like I thought - they think my baby is the big evil that's coming. And Doyle, well,' she snorted, 'let's just say _daddy_ isn't happy about the pitter patter of responsibility headed his way.'

'No,' he shook his head, 'that's not what I meant. I mean … Noble Lady, forgive me for questioning, but you told me that the only way to keep us safe was to kill Angelus, that he needed to die in order to protect your baby. But Angel lives - a champion once more - and you have chosen to tell him about the child. And the witch - she did not open a gateway to evil - it was she that returned Angel his soul. The words you spoke - what you asked me to do - they were not true. That is what I do not understand.'

'Oh,' Kali bit her lip. Then she made her eyes large and soft and entreating. 'I thought my baby was in danger,' she said, her voice as soft as her eyes, 'and every instinct I have told me that killing Angelus was the only way to protect it.'

'But you were wrong.'

She got to her feet and went to kneel in front of him. She reached a hand out to stroke the long tendril of hair that framed his face and gazed up into his eyes. 'I made a mistake,' she admitted, 'I did. But what really matters is that when I needed you, you were there for me. You did as I asked, without question - or hesitation. I know now I can trust you - as I can't trust anyone else in this world. Everything happens for a reason, Groo.'

'It does?' he asked her, 'once I believed as much - but now I am not so sure.'

'Of course it does,' she told him, gently, still gazing up at him, 'you coming to this world when you did, my being brought to L.A, both of us meeting up with Doyle - leading to my pregnancy - leading to me realising that in all the world I can only rely on you. My mistake - would have had tragic consequences - but the universe didn't allow it to happen and instead taught me a valuable lesson - that I have a champion, whose heart is pure, and who will be there for me, no matter what…' she got back to her feet and turned away from him. 'I needed to know that,' she told him. 'Before my baby comes, I might need to ask you to do some things for me - for us - that might not make a whole lot of sense. But I need you to remember that there is always a reason.'

The Groosalug nodded and got to his feet. 'I shall remember, Noble Lady,' he promised. 'But … my nearly killing a fellow champion weighs heavy on my heart. I need to leave this place, for now - I shall take a walk, clear my head. Think about what you have said.' He headed for the door.

'Don't be gone too long,' Kali called after him, 'you never know when I might need you to protect me.'

* * *

Gwen had taken Gunn back to her place - the sprawling, luxury, mansion apartment hidden inside the abandoned tenement building. It was just as fancy as he remembered - the complete opposite of everything he was used to. He picked up an ornament - a jade tiger - 'you been collecting these for a while?' he asked. She nodded - she picked something up from every trip she made. The dolphin was the most recent - from her escape to Tahiti. She collected the papers the man had given her together, readying for their heist. Gunn watched her. 'So what's so big and bad that Electro Gwen needs my Super-suave assistance?' he asked her, 'something about a girl in trouble?'

'Yeah,' she nodded, 'I did a little black-bag deal-eo for this corp. Happens all the time. Two companies vie for a contract. Company A hires me to make sure Company B's thingamabob doesn't so much bob as bust.'

'And company A gets a multi million dollar payday,' Gunn surmised.

'Right - except, this time, Company B fought back.' She took a photo out of her papers and held it up for Gunn to look at. It showed a little girl - about 7. 'They kidnapped this girl,' Gwen explained, 'her name is Lisa. She's the daughter of the guy who hired me to do the dirty work.'

'And no one can call the cops because -'

'Of what I did. So you see, it's my fault - I have to find her and I have to do it alone.' She took a printout from the envelope and handed it to Gunn. As she did, Gunn noticed the burned edges of the envelope and gave it a curious glance. 'Don't ask,' she shook her head. 'This is everything I could get on the man who's holding her,' she said, pointing to the printout. 'His name is Takeshi Morimoto. He's the head honcho of the company I tanked. He's promised to kill the girl if Company A doesn't come clean about what they did.'

Gunn scanned the page. This guy was a serious player: Chairman Emeritus, honorary degrees, all kinds of charity work, cancer research, wildlife preservation, the Zoo Committee… He read a little lower - and there it was: 'whoa - bank fraud, smuggling, money laundering …'

'And now kidnapping,' Gwen added.

'This guy know about you?' Gunn asked.

Gwen shook her head, again. This was why she might have a shot. She showed him the blueprint she had received from her contact - this was of the compound where Lisa was being held. Security was going to be tight: gates, armed guards, infrared surveillance, dogs, the works. If they were going to stand half a chance …

Gunn started to chuckle - and Gwen tailed off to look at him,'what?' she asked. 'You're gonna have to stop grinning like that and share the joke with the entire class. You think this is impossible?'

'No,' he assured her, still grinning broadly, 'I think it's fantastic. Listen, I spent most of this year trapped in what I can only describe as a turgid supernatural soap-opera. The fact that I have a chance to go out and really help somebody...Well, you know, it feels good to be doing good.' He stopped a moment, thinking about the many problems they faced. 'So how do we break into Fort Knox?' he asked.

'We walk through the front door.'

* * *

The limousine pulled up outside the mansion - and Gunn stepped out. He was now clad in a very stylish designer suit and polished shoes. He put his hand out and helped Gwen out of the car. She wore white, satin gloves all the way up to her elbows and long, red evening dress in an oriental design. 'So how are we doing?' she asked, as she slipped her arm through Gunn's.

'You tell me,' he replied. He adjusted his silk tie, 'I'm thinking James Bond never looked this fine.'

'I'm thinking you're right.' They headed towards the front door - where massive security guards were standing by. Gunn looked at them, 'I wish we had a few of his secret weapons, though,' he said.

'Charles, relax, we are the secret weapons,' she whispered, steering him towards the door.

They stepped up to the security desk. There was a full body scanner monitoring for body heat and any hidden anomalies. A guy sat and watched a screen, checking the people over. Gwen stepped in first - everything fine, she walked out the other side and Gunn followed her through. The security guy nodded and Gunn left the scanner and fell in step beside Gwen once more. 'One down,' she whispered, 'one to go.'

They came to a stop, as another security guard began to run a hand held metal detector over the pair of them. 'How's your electro thing gonna do with these metal detectors?' Gunn whispered.

'Piece of cake,' she said. The guard stopped scanning - finding nothing amiss - and waved them through. They then headed to the front desk and Gwen handed the tickets over. Gunn smiled, 'Now, if we can just get out as easily as we got in…' he was cut off by a loud beeping noise. The tickets being scanned had triggered the alarm - and security were beginning to converge on them. 'Why did I even say that?' Gunn groaned.


	62. Players: Part Two

_Part Two_

'Uh - what seems to be the problem?' Gunn asked - as the alarms continued to sound. The Security guard removed the tickets from the scanner and the alarms ceased, 'the electronic imprint on your tickets has been altered,' he informed them - not sounding too friendly.

'I can explain that,' Gwen's voice was quick, hurried, 'I was struck by lightning.' Everybody just stared at her. 'Really,' she said. Nobody looked inclined to believe her. 'You see how my life sucks?' she whispered to Gunn.

'Step this way, please,' one of the guards tried to usher them way from the doorway, 'don't make a scene.'

It was a little late for that - what with the beeping and the batons … 'maybe this isn't our night,' Gunn whispered.

'Then we make it our night,' Gwen whispered back - and started to remove one of her elbow length, satin gloves. 'This is my one shot, Gunn, and I am not leaving without you-know-who...and if that means we do it the hard way.'

'Ah ah - keep your mittens on, sparky.' Morimoto had just walked past - and that gave Gunn an idea. 'Morimoto-san,' he called out. The man stopped and turned and Gunn bowed to him, 'konbanwa.'

Morimoto walked towards him, 'Konbanwa. Okoshi kudasai arigato gozaimasu.'

Gunn looked a little abashed and smiled, ruefully, aware of Gwen and the security guards looking on. 'Sorry, didn't follow that last bit. Shot my entire Japanese vocabulary when I said 'hello'.'

'The gesture is still appreciated,' Morimoto nodded and turned to walk away - but Gunn wasn't finished yet. 'Mr. Morimoto, I'm Charles Gunn. We met at the zoo benefit last year.' Morimoto stared at him blankly - but politely - trying to place this well dressed, cultured young man. Gunn smiled, 'You don't remember me, do you? Your wife held that monkey right after my girlfriend did. Ugly little grey thing - the monkey, not my girl.' He chuckled. 'Gwen, you remember Mr. Moritmoto,' he said, turning to look at her, 'we met him at the zoo benefit.'

'Of course,' Gwen stepped forward - away from the guards - and bowed, 'how could I forget?'

'Mr. Morimoto, in case we don't have an opportunity to speak later, please do me the honour of accepting this humble gift…' Gunn pulled a small, oval box out of his breast pocket and held it out, 'to thank you for inviting us into your beautiful home.'

'You are too generous,' Morimoto said, declining. But Gunn pressed home, 'please, it's just a trinket.' Morimoto took the box and opened it, taking out the jade tiger from Gwen's apartment. Gwen glared at Gunn - but didn't say anything. How could she? Morimoto looked at the small ornament, 'truly exquisite,' he said, 'thank you,' and turned to walk away.

The security guard began to lead Gunn and Gwen away. 'Well, we tried it your way,' Gwen whispered, going back to taking her glove off. But Gunn held up his hand, 'wait a moment,' he said, craning to look back at Morimoto. Sure enough, Morimoto turned back - and signalled to the guards to let Gwen and Gunn stay. They breathed a sigh of relief and entered the party.

* * *

Doyle sat out in the courtyard, all by himself - the door firmly closed behind him. The moon was high in the sky, winking down at him - and the jasmine bushes were in full bloom, sending their scent wafting through the air. He sighed deeply, the weight of Kali's news hung heavy in his heart, making his whole chest feel tight - like he was suffocating. How could this be? It couldn't… Silas, back in Pylea, had said …. Dr. Gregson, at the demon clinic, had said … and now this? Now?

It wasn't just the knowledge that he had somehow managed to defy biology, defy his own genetics and father a child - with a woman that was not Cordelia. Though the irony of him getting the one thing he wanted, the one thing he couldn't have - but having it with the wrong person, was not lost on him. Nor was it the fact that this child - whenever it would be born - was almost certainly going to be more demon than human, though that was source enough for terrible guilt … and shame.

It was … he didn't want this baby. That much was true, and probably no one expected him to be happy - not even Kali. But it was more than incipient fatherhood weighing him down. He didn't remember sleeping with Kali … and that troubled him, upset him more than he cared to admit. He felt … violated. Like … like his body had been used against his will to do something he didn't want - didn't agree to. And it freaked him out - if he could forget this, what else might he have done - with whom - and lost all memory of it?

He took a deep breath. Just because he didn't remember having sex, now - he tried to tell himself - didn't mean he hadn't known what he was doing in the moment, hadn't been fully in control. Hadn't wanted to do it.

...But even that rang false. He didn't want to sleep with Kali. He remembered, when he'd first rescued her, how she had made eyes at him, how she had fallen for him - and how troubled he had been by that. Because he only loved Cordelia - only wanted to be with Cordelia. That was the problem. Up until now, there had only ever been Cordelia - and Harri, before her - that he would suddenly decide to get fleshy with a demon woman he barely knew ... that just wasn't like him. And it wouldn't have been right - anyway - the way Kali had felt about him, only because he had happened to be the one to rescue her, it would have been taking advantage. And he wasn't that kind of guy. At least - he never had been.

To have done this - and then have nothing but a blank wall where his memory should be … it felt like his whole body had betrayed him. It made his skin crawl, made him want to get in the shower and scrub until he drew blood. He didn't want to have slept with Kali. Knowing that he had made him feel different about himself - inside and out. And he couldn't … he didn't … he didn't know how to cope with this. How to move forward. How to stop his skin feeling dirty - stop it tingling from the feeling of forgotten, lascivious caresses. He wanted to take the knowledge and rip it out of himself - claw it from inside of him and throw it away, so he could go back to how he had been before. It would be the only way to make the tingling stop. But it was stuck in there now - Kali's words, her smile, reverberating around in his mind - where his memories should be. And there was no way back.

And then - beneath the barely concealed panic and the skin that no longer felt like his own - was the emptiness of his hand, where Cordelia's had been. They had been moving on. They had been moving forward. Things were going back the way they were always supposed to be. He had been earning her forgiveness - she had been letting herself love him again, building her trust in him again … well, that was probably blown out of the water.

Not that she would admit that it made a difference. She would say the right words: that they hadn't been together; that what he did in their time apart was none of her business; that she had been attempting a relationship with Angel - so had no right or reason to expect a monastic celibacy from him … but she had still taken her hand from his. She had still moved away. This was just another thing - just as she let down her walls, believed in him again - to find out he had fathered a child with another woman. And she wasn't going to want to hang around and play happy families with a demon stepkid.

So now - having destroyed everything that mattered to him because of his belief he couldn't father children, his jealousy over Connor - he was going to be stuck raising a child he didn't want, with a woman he didn't love - whilst the life he actually wanted slipped away through his fingers and vanished in the air.

Well … that should come as no big surprise to him. This was how the universe always treated him. The Powers dropped on him from a great height and then kicked him when he was down: his demon half, his visions, going to jail, Connor, losing Cordelia … his life had just been a relentless onslaught of bad ever since his 21st birthday. This was just the next thing. He should have known ...

* * *

Wesley and Fred sat together in the office, papers and books were piled around them and they were combing through them, looking for something - anything - that might give them a lead on what was going on. Shifting through the pile, Fred came across an illustration of a red, spiked demon, and held it up for Wesley to look at. 'This is supposed to be a kid?' she asked.

'And infant Gatbar demon,' he told her, 'the spikes grow to full size in the womb.'

'Ouch,' Fred winced, 'and speaking of ouch,' she glanced, guiltily over her shoulder, and then leaned her head towards Wesley and lowered her voice, 'seein' as how Doyle's half brachen demon - big with the spikes - and Kali's … whatever Kali is - what do you think is in there? Species wise, I mean. And can Kali survive the birth?'

Wesley looked thoughtful. 'If what Cordelia told us is true, if - forgive the term - half breeds can't, as a rule, breed - then this baby will be unprecedented in the world.'

'You mean like Connor?'

There was a pause, '... yes,' Wesley said after a long moment. 'A child who should not exist that has come to be anyway.'

'Darla didn't survive the birth.'

'No … she didn't. It's a worry. As is whatever the reality of this child will turn out to be. As is the effect this will all have on Doyle. Suffice it to say, the end times are not over yet.'

'He seemed to take it really hard,' Fred nodded, 'and - did Cordelia seem a little upset to you?'

'She certainly took herself off afterwards,' Wesley mused. 'Perhaps she was a little upset.'

'But why would that be?' Fred pressed, 'she was the one who broke it off with Doyle, they've been apart for months. She's in love with Angel. What does this matter to her?'

'Perhaps - even after all this time - it has come as a shock to her that Doyle had moved on. That he hadn't stayed still and waited - that he had sought solace elsewhere.'

Fred shook her head, 'but she would have no right to…'

'No,' Wesley's voice was strained, 'and yet finding out what a man has been up to - who has chosen to be with - can still change the way a woman sees him.' His tone hardened. 'But the truth is things happen, Fred. When you're lost and lonely. When you're alienated from the people you love - you start to look in other places.'

Fred looked away, understanding the subtext - understanding that this was no longer a conversation about _Cordelia_ expecting a man to wait for her - to be loyal to her, without any promise of reward. 'Hmm, Lilah,' she muttered under her breath.

'We fight on opposite sides, but it's the same war,' Wesley explained. Fred rolled her eyes in response, 'but you hate her,' she scoffed - and then turned back to look at him again, 'don't you?'

'It's not always about holding hands.'

* * *

Angel was sat in a chair, sketching. Cordelia was sat beside him, she had Connor in her lap, but she was quiet - morose, even. The silence between them was actually becoming uncomfortable. Angel squirmed, he never felt uncomfortable with Cordy - he didn't understand what was going on. 'Cordelia,' he said, hesitantly, when the quiet had got too much, 'is everything OK?'

She shook her head as if coming out of a deep reverie. 'What?' she asked.

'I said is everything OK?'

'Fine,' she said quickly - too quickly, 'I'm fine.'

'Yeah?' He raised a sceptical eyebrow, ''cause from where I'm looking - it looks like you're seriously bummed out about Doyle becoming a father. You've been quiet and moody ever since Kali's big reveal.'

'Well I … I mean...' she struggled to find the words, 'it's a bit of a shock, don't you think? I guess I'm just ...'

'You're not shocked,' he corrected her, 'you're upset. Why?'

'I'm not upset,' she denied.

He just stared at her - '_Cordelia._'

'OK … I guess… we talked about having kids - me and Doyle. We were ready to … when I found out about how he had betrayed us. We knew he couldn't be the real father - but there's more than one way to have a baby - and we thought… but then we broke up.'

'That was your choice,' Angel pointed out, 'and you moved on - to me.'

Cordelia just hung her head. 'Whilst you were Angelus,' she said quietly, 'I realised some things - some truths; that neither of us wanted to know, that we were desperately trying to ignore - but that didn't make them less true. And now it's time to face up to them.' She found the courage to lift her head and look him in the eye. 'I'm so sorry, Angel,' she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 'I really am. I wanted to … I wanted us to … but I was kidding myself - and you - and that isn't fair, on either of us.'

It was Angel's turn to hang his head, realising what she was saying - even if she hadn't quite managed to actually say it. 'Do you love Doyle again?' he asked.

'Angel - '

'Do you?'

'I never stopped,' she admitted. 'I loved him every moment we were apart - and I missed him more than I could bear - I just ... I didn't let myself feel it. I tried to distract myself.'

'With me? Is that all I was - all we were?'

Cordelia, her arms still wrapped around Connor - balancing him on her knee, twisted her hands together and bit her lip, in discomfort. 'I didn't think so - at the time,' she told the vampire. 'I was miserable and hurting and you - you were the only thing that made me happy, made me feel like I had a purpose and a place in the world. You were my rock and…' she wrinkled her brow in consternation, 'I got confused,' she said, 'I made a mistake - I … I got all these warm fuzzies from being with you: comfort, security, friendship, trust … and I mistook them for being in love. I really thought I was - but - you went away, Angelus came back out and - I realised the truth.'

'That you only ever loved Doyle,' his voice was quiet. Cordelia hesitated a moment - and then nodded. It was bad enough she had got them into this situation - she owed it to Angel to be one hundred percent honest - no matter how difficult - now she was breaking up with him. 'It was only ever him,' she said, 'it can only ever be him and - Angel - for you it can only ever be Buffy.'

'I can't be with Buffy,' he said tersely.

'No - for a million reasons - and all those reasons still stand when you try to be with me. I'm only your second choice - and we still can't have a proper relationship. I'll still grow old and die, whilst you will remain young and freakishly handsome forever. It's gonna get to the point where you look like you're dating your grandma - and that's assuming you're still gonna wanna be with me when I have false teeth and wrinkles and incontinence pads. And - even before we get to the nursing home portion of our relationship - there is _no way_ on this earth I'm ever risking boinking you and bringing Angelus forth - not after these last few weeks.'

'It wouldn't have to mean … If we were careful…'

Cordelia nodded and cut him off, 'yeah,' she said, 'if you were careful, you wouldn't lose your soul in me. And every time you made love to me - I'd know you loved Buffy more.' Tears shone in her eyes, 'how can we have a relationship with that weighing over us? It would kill - everything - all our love - slowly, over time. It would destroy the friendship we had. And - if it's possible - I wanna protect that. I might be in love with Doyle - but you are my best friend, Angel, and I don't ever wanna lose that.'

'Friends,' Angel repeated the word, heavily. Cordelia winced. 'I know -' she admitted. 'I didn't mean…' But he cut her off. 'So - you love Doyle - and he's knocked up Kali - where does that leave you?'

'I don't know.'

'Hence the upset.'

'Hence the upset,' she repeated, sadly.

'Well,' he felt all the sadness and loss, the jealousy, the frustration and the soreness of rejection - and quashed it down deep inside of him. She had made her choice. Last year, he had been pushing for her to make a choice - and now she had. Now he knew. That was that. Time now for his trademark stoicism. 'We need to sort out this Kali problem,' he told her, 'find out what's inside of her - and how it relates to the Beastmaster - and see if we can't sort it so you can get Doyle back, the way things used to be - the way they're supposed to be.'

Cordelia stared at him - disbelieving, not daring to hope he meant it - but still grateful. 'Angel…'

'If you love Doyle,' Angel said - working hard to keep his voice even, unable to look at her directly, 'if he is what you want, then I want you to have him. I just want you to be happy - and I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.'

'Angel…' she was completely lost for words. 'You really are a champion, you know,' she said in the end.

'I know,' he told her. He dared to look at her then. 'And I gotta admit, always having to be noble is a real pain in the ass.'

She grinned at him - and he smiled back, a little sadly - but sincere.

* * *

'So when did you become Mr. Japanese ambassador?' Gwen asked, as, arms linked, she and Gunn walked into the ballroom.

'Well, you watch enough Samurai movies, you learn a couple of things about the culture. The first is Reishiki, which is a fancy way of stressing proper etiquette at all times. The other is never underestimate the value of a thoughtful gift.'

'You mean that gift you stole?' she asked - her voice laden with irony. Gunn chuckled. 'Yeah - sorry about that - hope it wasn't too valuable.'

Gwen stopped, 'let you in on a little secret -' she said, opening up her purse. Gunn peered inside - to see that the jade tiger was in there. 'You stole it back?' he asked, incredulously.

'It's not like eighteenth century jade is falling off trucks…' she scanned around the room - and then came to a stop when she saw a little girl, surrounded by bodyguards, enter at the opposite end of the ballroom.

'What…' Gunn looked around and spotted the child, as well. 'Is that her?' he asked, 'shouldn't she be tied to a chair, or something?'

'Tied up or dressed up, she's a prisoner,' Gwen told him, 'look at the muscle around her. I'm going to see if I can get a closer look.' She began to walk down the length of the ballroom, headed closer to the girl and her guards. Gunn followed her - but she stopped him. 'No,' Gwen said, 'keep an eye on Morimoto.'

* * *

'So have you got anything yet?' Cordelia asked. Angel was still sketching, 'wait a moment…' he said - putting on a few last pencil strokes. Then he turned the paper and looked at it from another angle. 'I got nothing,' he admitted. 'There was a plan there - all the stuff The Beast did wasn't random. This thing was in my head - I should be able to understand it, get a hold of it somehow but…' he shook his head. 'It's like trying to hold onto water - there's a pattern, I just can't see it.'

'But you think it's linked to Kali's baby… _Doyle's_ baby?'

'An impossible pregnancy in the middle of the apocalypse? No way that's a coincidence. And we've known about Kali's destiny for months. It all revolves around that pregnancy - we just need to …'

'What?'

'I don't know,' he shrugged, 'find out what everybody knows, I guess. I mean, Kali says her baby is good - and I know it's inside of her, but how much can she really know? You know?'

'I've been thinking about that,' Cordelia said. 'Remember when she said none of us knew what it's like to have a life growing inside of them?... well - I do. I've been there. And I blew up even quicker than she did.'

'The Haxil Beast,' Angel nodded, remembering, 'you were pregnant with seven of his spawn.'

'Yeah - I was. Demonic pregnancy, been there - done that - bought the t-shirt. And you know what she said about being connected? I know what that's like. I remember the way they spoke to me - through a psychic link in the cord. How they took over my mind, as well as my body. Told me what to do. I knocked Wesley out to protect them - and not an hour before, I'd been scared and depressed and pretty much ready to die. Having them inside of me changed me. _They_ changed me. And it's not only me - Darla was just about the baddest vampire that ever walked the earth - apart from maybe her darling boy - but when she got Connor's soul inside of her, whispering to her, she sacrificed herself to bring him into this world. A soulless vampire cannot self sacrifice - they just can't. It was the pregnancy, Connor's influence, that changed her from the inside - dictated the way she behaved … I just think, when Kali says her baby is sweet and good, she maybe isn't thinking as clearly as she thinks she is.'

'Sweet,' Angel repeated the word, thoughtfully. 'Yeah - you're right. Mystical pregnancies play havoc with the mothers, because forces on either side are willing to do whatever it takes to either bring the baby into being - or stop it. But I'm wondering what Doyle knows - if anything.'

'He said he didn't,' Cordelia said quickly. 'He doesn't remember.'

'He _says_ he doesn't remember.'

'He can't be lying. Lorne read him - a couple of times - his memory loss is legit.'

'But Lorne's empath abilities have been really off lately. He said it himself. We can't trust his readings at the minute.' He got to his feet. 'I'm going out to speak to Doyle - try and get him to talk. But there's something I need you to do for me…'

* * *

Gunn stood in a group with Morimoto and some of his guests. They were all finely dressed - and the women were dripping in jewels. This was a world the likes of which, before tonight, Gunn could only have conceived of in his wildest fantasies. The group were talking about the recent events - the meteor showers, the earth quakes, the strange thing with the sun. They all agreed it was a very exciting time to live in L.A - that it felt like something wonderful was coming. Only Gunn was a voice of dissent. 'Feels like something's coming, alright,' he told them, 'but I aint so sure I'd call it wonderful.' The group laughed.

Gwen came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He excused himself and followed her. 'They're going to kill her tonight,' she hissed. Gunn shook his head, 'aint gonna happen.'

'We need to act fast - you need to get Lisa and get out.'

'You mean 'we' need to,' Gunn clarified, but Gwen shook her head. No - she would cause a distraction at the other side of the room. By the time they figured out what was what - Gunn would have Lisa out of the compound and half way to Gwen's place.

'Like I said - feels good to be doing good,' Gunn said.

'Wait for my signal.' She walked off to the opposite side of the room, as Gunn casually made his way over to near where Lisa was standing with her bodyguards. Once she was as far away as possible, but still in sight, Gwen leaned back against a coffee table and then shoved it over with all her might. It crashed to the floor - the cups smashed and the liquid began to pool out.

As everyone stared over at the coffee table, Gunn grabbed the little girl, picking her up with one hand and putting his other hand over her mouth. Then he turned and fled.

Gwen stared after him - and then grabbed hold of one of the security guards, 'oh my god!' she said, pointing, 'someone's trying to hurt that little girl.' The security guard got straight onto his walkie talkie and, smirking, Gwen turned and walked away in the opposite direction to Gunn.

Gunn hurried down the hallway, the little girl still in his arms. He ducked inside a side room and shut the door - then he set her on her feet. He knelt down - so they were the same height - 'don't worry,' he said to her, 'we're almost out.'

But she just stared past him - at something behind him - and then he felt the weight of the blunt instrument crash down on his head, and he fell to the floor.


	63. Players: Part Three

_Part Three_

Doyle heard the door open - but he didn't turn around. He wanted it to be Cordy - coming out here to tell him everything would be OK and that she still loved him - but he didn't think it would be. Sure enough, it was Angel who appeared at his side and sat down beside him. 'Hey,' the vampire said. Doyle only grunted in response.

'I get it,' Angel nodded, 'big news - your head's spun. I remember how it was when Darla just showed up out of the blue - eight months pregnant - I was like … I was a mess. This couldn't have happened. It couldn't be. I was freaked. But now … Connor's the best thing I got in my life. This news - if it's come as a shock - you'll get used to it. Has it, by the way... ' he made his voice casual, 'come as a shock?'

Doyle just raised his head and stared at him for a moment, before looking back down again.

'Right, yeah, memory loss - I heard about that. At least I remember the night I had sex with Darla.'

Doyle shuddered. But he didn't say anything and he didn't look up.

'So …' Angel glanced at the quiet Irishman out of the corner of his eye - taking in his hunched shoulders and hanging head, 'now we're having to think about how all this fits in with The Beastmaster's plans. We know The Beast was linked to Kali - it followed her around like a lapdog… a vicious, murderous, terrifying lapdog … maybe it more stalked her than followed her… anyway, it did all the things it did - only for us to find out it was the minion all along - and now Kali is expecting miracle demon spawn. Now - maybe The Beastmaster wants that baby, but why?'

Doyle still said nothing. Angel continued to ruminate. 'I mean - is it powerful? Are there prophecies about it? Is it the antichrist? No offence…'

'None taken.' Doyle still didn't look up. Still only using his peripheral vision, Angel watched him - he seemed massively uninterested in the conversation. It was time to go deeper. 'I mean - all those things The Beastmaster did - killing Manny, stealing my soul, killing Kate - these were surgical strikes. The Beast didn't do that - not his smash and grab style.'

Still nothing from Doyle.

'So I'm wondering,' Angel continued, 'how this Beastmaster got into the hotel - and when it's gonna come back for the baby. And what it's gonna do when it gets it.'

Doyle sighed - and finally raised his head, speaking at last. 'You really think the Beastmaster's gonna come in and kidnap the baby?' Angel wasn't sure - but he thought he could detect a note of something very similar to hope in Doyle's voice. 'You think it'll come back here, now that you've got your soul back? You really think it was here in the first place - that it stole your soul? Didn't rip open the safe - used the combination - and it hung around and murdered Kate, even though it could be found at any minute… I don't know, man. I think you're clutching at straws.'

Angel shook his head. 'You don't understand - this thing was in my head - I've heard him and he's insane enough to pull off these kinds of stunts.'

Doyle looked confused, 'when you say 'insane', do you mean 'diabolical' or…'

'No, I mean like deluded and demented. He spoke to me in this cheesy, self-important voice. I bet he doesn't even have a master plan—he's just making it up as he goes along.'

'You think so?' Doyle did not sound convinced.

'Hey, don't worry. We'll figure it out. Come on, anybody as daredevily as this guy will slip up sooner or later. When he does, he's dead.'

'Right.' But Doyle still did not sound happy. Or even interested. His head was hanging low, again. His elbows were resting on his knees and his fingers were interlocked. He was staring down at his thumbs, rubbing them together gently. 'OK.'

Angel stared at him. He didn't react. Just then, the gate opened, and Lorne came into the courtyard. Angel got to his feet, leaving Doyle behind - and went to speak to the newly arrived demon. 'Anything?' he asked, anxiously.

'Not a peep, mon cherie. I got bupkiss.'

'Right, well…' with a backwards glance at Doyle, he ushered Lorne towards the door, 'I think I've had an idea … there's a source I need you to check out…'

* * *

Gunn got back to his feet, groaning and rubbing his head. He looked around and saw three men moving towards him - each carrying a long staff like it was a weapon. He raised an eyebrow as they circled him, 'now I'm gonna have to get your lame ass blood all over my nice new suit,' he told them. They moved in - and he punched one of them out, before grabbing the staff from the second. He used that to knock out the guy and then turned to the final man, who drew a sword and pointed it at him. 'You know I spent the last few weeks whacking on a giant lava demon and more vamps than I can count,' Gunn told him, 'I forgot how good it feels to just let off a little steam.' He swung the staff and disarmed the man, before swinging his stick again, hitting him in the head and then doing a low swipe, taking out the man's legs as he fell.

The street fighter dropped the staff and straightened his tie - smiling. He went over to the little girl, who had crouched down low in the corner whilst the men had fought. 'Alright, let's get you out of here,' Gunn said to her, gently. She got to her feet. 'I'm gonna get you home,' he promised.

'I am home,' she said.

Gunn looked confused. 'No. You've been kidnapped.'

She stamped her foot and pointed a petulant finger, 'get out of my house!'

Realisation began to dawn. 'Your name's not Lisa, is it?' he asked her.

'I'm Aiko Morimoto, and when my daddy finds out you tried to hurt me - he's gonna kill you.'

Gunn turned and left the room - leaving the girl and the unconscious men where they were.

* * *

Gwen was down in the cellar. She wore a stethoscope and was listening as she tried to work out the combination to the safe. She jumped as she felt a hand touch her shoulder - but it was only Gunn. 'It's you,' she said in surprise. Though it wasn't that much of a shock that he had managed to evade capture, even from someone like Morimoto, she knew he could handle himself. It was part of the reason she had chosen him. Though Gunn had figured out the rest.

'It was the scanners, wasn't it?' He asked, 'why you wanted me. Angel, no heartbeat.'

'Security scan of a dead guy might have raised a few eyebrows,' she admitted. But Gunn looked disappointed. 'You know, for about 5 minutes there, I thought you might actually care about something.'

She turned on him, impatiently. So what if she hadn't let him in on the plan? Or had set him up for a fall? She had seen his face up there - he was having a blast, it had been ages since he'd had this much fun!

'But that's 'cause I thought we were doing good,' he countered. It had felt good to be rescuing damsels again - but now it turned out they were only doing crime, and he probably didn't even wanna know for whose benefit.

'We are doing good,' Gwen replied, 'just not the type that involves rescuing a fairy princess from an evil king.'

'So Lisa doesn't exist?'

'Yes she does - and I'd have liberated her from this steel tomb by now if you stopped yapping for two minutes and let me concentrate.' She turned back to the safe and began to work on the combination again - listening carefully for the clicks.

'You know, my friend Doyle can just blow his way into these things? He used to be a bank robber - you'd have been better bringing him along,' Gunn said, folding his arms and watching her work.

'A good thief,' she said, slowly, twisting the lock and listening, 'doesn't leave a trace behind. A good thief doesn't just _blow_ their way into a vault. Your friend ever get caught?'

Gunn nodded, 'a couple of years back - he was facing some pretty serious jail time. Got out on a technicality.'

'And that's why I didn't choose him,' she said, 'that and he wouldn't look half as 007 in a suit,' she smiled, flirtatiously. Gunn smiled back - pleased, in spite of himself. 'So what is Lisa then - if not a girl in need of rescuing?'

'It's a military acronym. Localised Ionic Sensory Activator.'

'Lisa's a weapon?'

But Gwen corrected him. 'Not a weapon,' she said. 'A covert device worn by black ops. Regulates body temp, heartbeat, body chemistry. Morimoto's company designed it, and I've been hired to steal the beta test.'

'God Bless America,' Gunn muttered.

'Actually China. Or maybe North Korea - I'm not too sure. Morimoto's selling it to the highest bidder.'

'So who are you stealing it for?'

She sighed impatiently. There were two things that made a good thief - stealing what you were paid to steal and not asking too many questions.

'And not leaving any trace behind,' Gunn added to her list.

'Right.'

'Well - good luck with that,' he turned and began to walk away from her, headed to the stairs.

'It doesn't change anything,' she called after him, 'Morimoto's still a bad guy, you're still a good one.'

He stopped and looked back. 'You know, I can't believe I took time out of the apocalypse for this.'

'Even the pres takes vacations,' she rolled her eyes, 'look, if they need you - they'll call. Let's finish this how we started it - together.'

'It's not the same.'

She looked him up and down, 'you can keep the suit.' He shrugged - and walked back towards the vault.

* * *

Cordelia knocked on Kali's door and then slipped inside. 'Hi,' she said to the pregnant demon - holding up a mug, 'I bought you some herbal tea.'

'Thanks.' The demoness was lying on the couch, her blanket draped across her. Cordelia walked further into the room and balanced on the sofa arm. She handed the cup to Kali and smiled at her. 'You know, my wheatbag must still be downstairs - Doyle brought it from my place after I got shot. I could get it for you - it's really good for easing aches and pains.'

'You're being very kind,' Kali noted. She rubbed her belly, 'I would have thought … the way you feel about Doyle…'

'Oh - it's weird,' Cordelia admitted, 'I don't wanna think about it. Neither does he by the looks of things, but we still have to deal with the practicalities.'

'The practicalities?' Kali's tone had an edge to it.

'Uhuh,' Cordy nodded - if she noticed the tone, she didn't let on. 'I remember being pregnant,' she said, 'three years ago or so - it never came to term, thank goodness - but I remember how it feels; the aches, the soreness, the weariness, the hunger, the sickness - the swollen ankles! You need looking after.'

'Right,' the demon woman seemed to relax. 'You were pregnant?' she asked.

'Knocked up by a Haxil beast,' Cordelia told her, 'well - his handsome and smarmy surrogate. Seven babies at once and I just blew up - woosh - over night. And then they started talking to me … We were connected. I remember what it's like to be connected to a life inside of you. Even if that life is a squirmy, evil demon thing. I know how it feels.'

'Well,' Kali continued to rub her belly, smiling serenely, '_my_ baby isn't a squirmy, evil demon thing. It's good and sweet and pure.'

'Good … that's good,' Cordy smiled encouragingly, but then it slid from her face and she looked more uncertain. 'But … it _will_ be a demon. I mean - you … and Doyle. He hates to admit it, but … there's no way this baby is going to be human.'

'I never for a moment thought I'd ever have a human child,' Kali pointed out, 'nor have I ever wanted one.'

'Right - of course not - different species. I get it. But - Doyle's a different species again. And he isn't meant to be able to … Kali, what I mean is, this baby is going to be _different_.'

'It's going to make everything better.'

'Huh - right, well, better - yeah. Kali - if you don't mind me asking - when did this happen? Exactly?'

'Why does it matter?' her tone had that edge to it, again.

'Oh you know … I just…'

'You think there's something wrong - because my baby is growing so quickly? You think it's evil.'

Cordelia's eyes widened in alarm, 'no .. no,' her voice was a high squeak. 'It's not that at all, I'm just …'

'Oh I get it. You're jealous! You're in love with Doyle and you don't like that he's been with me. That he's connected to me, now. Forever.'

'I don't think he likes that either,' Cordelia said, quietly. 'When was it? He needs to know - if for no other reason than peace of mind. I really don't think he's lying when he says he doesn't remember.'

'Or is that just what you _want_ to believe?'

'Fine,' Cordelia sighed and got to her feet, 'I've got too much work to do, downstairs, if you're gonna be that way. We're all working flat out - except for Doyle, who's freaking out.' She walked towards the door

'What are you working on?' Kali called after her, sharply. Cordelia turned and looked back. 'We're using Lilah's book - the one from the other dimension - seeing if it can shed any light on… this,' she waved her arm towards Kali bump.

'You think there might be some information in there on my sweet baby?' Kali asked, sounding concerned, rubbing her bump protectively.

'We're hoping - though if you could tell us when it happened that could be a real help.'

'OK - it was… after The Beast turned out the sun. Remember I was all cut and bleeding? You guys went back to the hotel and Doyle took me back to his room, to take care of me.'

'And boink you?'

'We made love.'

'And you clearly didn't use protection. Right - well - thanks, I'll … go tell the others.'

'Actually,' Kali threw off the blanket and struggled to her feet, arching her back as she was made to support the weight of her pregnancy once more, 'I'd like to come down and take a look at this with you. After all - if you find anything useful - it's my baby.'

* * *

Gwen continued to turn the dial, listening through her stethoscope. Beside her, Gunn was barely breathing - lest the sound of it stop her from hearing the minute clicks. When she got the last number, the door swung open. Gunn peered inside, expectantly - but then his face fell when he saw another door, inside - this one locked with an electronic keypad. 'Damn!' he sighed.

But Gwen only smiled, 'nah,' she told him, 'this is the easy one. She took off one of her satin gloves and lay her bare palm against the keypad; zapping it. The door swung open - revealing the inside of the safe - and the small metal box stashed within. Gwen took it and dropped it into her purse, alongside the jade tiger. 'We're out of here,' she said, beginning to walk away. 'We should split up in case…'

'Oh no..' Gunn interrupted her, standing in front of her- facing her. 'We're not doing that again. Either we both get out of here or …'

'Neither of us do,' Gwen said quietly, staring over his shoulder - at where Morimoto and a cadre of guards were stood, waiting.

* * *

By the time Cordelia and Kali came downstairs, Doyle had joined the others in the office - though he was still very quiet, and not making eye contact with anybody. Wesley was attempting to translate the book, whilst Fred and Angel hovered over him. 'You know this would go much quicker if the pair of you weren't looming into my light - spectating,' the watcher said, drily.

'There's no rush,' Angel said quickly.

'Take your time,' Fred said, simultaneously. Then Angel spotted the two new arrivals and smiled them, 'hey, ladies! Wes, here, was just translating something from Lilah's book - could be key.'

'Did you find anything?' Kali asked - her voice was strained.

'I'd be finding it a lot quicker if people would just leave me alone,' Wes remarked.

'We'll take that as a 'no',' Cordelia said.

'I'm doing the best I can!'

'And we appreciate it,' Angel assured him, 'Kali, are you OK - can we get you anything? A glass of water? Something to eat? A foot rub?'

Doyle, lurking morosely in his corner, had been looking more and more awkward ever since the two women had walked in; but when Angel spoke to the demon woman - the mother of Doyle's child - the half demon just abandoned the lot of them, walking away from the group - unable to face this.

'Rain check on the foot rub,' Kali said, watching him go. She turned back to the others and smiled - wanly, 'I guess I'll be raising this baby alone, then, by the looks of things. Daddy's not exactly jumping for joy at the thought of incipient fatherhood, is he?'

'He'll come round,' Angel promised, 'but it's a big adjustment - finding out you're going to be a father. I remember when I first found out about Connor - I was power freaked. The news… it's just a big boatload out of the blue. It's a lot to handle.'

'Really?' Kali raised a sceptical eyebrow, 'well you should try being the one to actually carry the baby inside of you, some time, if you wanna know about big adjustments.'

Cordelia chuckled, Fred gave them both a quick smile. Angel looked awkward, 'right - yeah - I didn't mean … doesn't compare… silly of me…'

'Oh hang on!' Wesley's voice cut through and they all turned to look at him, 'I think I might have something…' he said.

'You do?' Kali asked quickly, 'about my baby?' Without letting anyone else see, she moved her hand across the desk - towards Wesley's cup of coffee - poised to spill the hot liquid all across the rare and ancient text.

'Yes… let me see, let me see …' Wesley's tongue was stuck out between his two front teeth as he worked away at is translation. 'Something about The Beast's rampage upon the earth in former times -' he glanced up at Angel, 'it must mean around the time he met Angelus…'

Kali was breathless - waiting...

'Hmm - yes - no man could end us his wrath…' he traced his finger along the lines, scanning for the important information, 'yes. Here it talks about the Svea Priestesses it says - _so a coven of priestesses - learned in the arts of the underworld - didst banish The Beast into the world beyond - trapping him from the earthly dimension, never to wreak havoc there again.'_

'So … how did he get back?' Cordelia asked.

'It's in this next passage - _Their magicks was such that no mortal or immortal of that world could bring him forth. He could only be released by one who was…'_

Kali dashed her hand against the cup. It fell over and the coffee spilled out. Wesley pushed his chair back in alarm, to get away from the scalding liquid pooling in front of him - and when he returned to the book, it was to see that it was now sodden and stained brown - the ink running so the words were unreadable.

'I am so sorry!' Kali gasped - looking around at them all, 'it's the pregnancy - I'm all clumsy and … baby brained. I didn't mean to … can you still read it?' she turned her eyes on Wesley.

The watcher was holding the book gingerly by it's cover - trying to shake the coffee from the pages. 'Not like this,' he replied. He put the copy of the compendium page down over the radiator and then pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes tight shut as he tried not to yell at the pregnant woman. 'Maybe when it dries-' he said, tightly. 'Maybe something will be salvageable.'

'I am really sorry.'

'That was a centuries old book - from another dimension. There is no more information on The Beast or his master on this plane of existence.'

'Really really sorry.'

'It was an accident,' Angel said, trying to reassure Wesley, 'we can get round this - nobody's to blame. Look - whilst we wait for that book to dry, why don't I go out and start hitting people? See if we can't shake some info loose in the underworld.'

'We tried that already,' Fred pointed out.

'Yeah - well - I'm trying again. Everyone just stay here and I'll…' he had grabbed his duster and was headed for the door of the office - but before he could get through it, Lorne had appeared at the other side of it and they bumped straight into each other. 'You're going nowhere, little buddy,' the demon said to him, 'no huffy exits until I spill the joyous news.'

'About the baby?' Kali asked.

'About El Jefe?' Cordelia guessed

'Not quite,' Lorne admitted. 'My sources got nothing on mystical birthin' or the big Kahuna.' Behind him Doyle had reappeared in the doorway - and was listening in, again. Lorne was still talking - directing his words to Angel now. 'But Wanda—that demon you recommended—what a peach, by the way. Anyway, she sold me this cleansing abracadabra to clear my muddled mind.'

'You're empathic again?' Fred asked. But - no - not quite, not quite yet, anyway. He held up a long, black cloak 'you think this whole Dungeons and Dragons cloak is a fashion statement? I've got this whole song and dance ritual to do.'

'Well - until that book dries we all have literally nothing else to do,' Wesley told him, 'if you need an extra pair of hands...'

'Sorry - I can only take my two.' He explained that the ritual had to be performed solo - somewhere isolated; dark and dusty and shadowy. 'But the upside is I should be all systems go by sunrise,' he finished.

'And then you'll be able to read Kali?' Cordelia asked, looking pleased, 'find out what the hell's going on?'

'Absolutely no worries, dumpling. Come the morning I'll be a lean, mean belly reading machine - and then both momma and poppa can put their minds at rest.' He turned to smile at Doyle, who still hovered in the doorway. But the Irishman did not smile back. Instead he dropped eye contact and walked away from the group, once more, headed out into the courtyard for some alone time and fresh air for the second time that evening. Lorne watched him go, his smile fading, 'well… maybe there's not gonna be a lot of peace of mind for daddy bear,' he said, a little sadly, then he turned back to Kali, 'but this is good news for you, pudding.'

Kali's returning smile was very bright - and very fixed.

* * *

Gunn and Gwen stared at the large group of men surrounding them. 'Take it out of your purse, set it down on the desk and then step away - now,' Morimoto said.

'No.'

'I don't think you realise who you're up against,' the Japanese gangster warned her. Gunn looked unimpressed - glancing beyond Morimoto to the heavies he had with him, 'those guys?' he asked, 'I already kicked their asses once...' The security guards took out handguns and pointed them at the thieving pair, '...but when you put it that way,' Gunn finished up, 'maybe we should.'

'I won't give it back,' Gwen said - she was speaking to Gunn and her voice was pained - desperate, 'I can't.'

'I can,' he reached out or her purse, 'I'm not dying for this.'

'I'm finishing the job,' she shouted.

'Gwen - it's too late - we're busted.' His voice was soft, he was sensing there was something more to this - that this was no run of the mill theft for a client. Gwen was personally invested, but that only made her judgement riskier.

'I'm not leaving without it,' she said, glaring at Morimoto - refusing to relinquish her purse, and the weapon inside.

'Then you're not leaving at all,' Morimoto told her. He glanced over his shoulder at his guards, 'finish it,' he commanded.

'Gwen,' Gunn's voice was less soft now - it held a distinct note of urgency, rising to panic, 'give it to him.' But she only shook her head. 'No, I need it.'

'I said finish it!' Morimoto said to his guards.

'It's mine!' Gwen screamed - and there was no mistaking the pain and desperation now. Her skin crackled and streams of blue white electricity shot from her hands - hitting Morimoto and his guards square in the chest. As they began to scream in pain, Gwen continued to scream in anguish… and Gunn watched on, in shock.


	64. Players: Part Four

_Part Four_

The Groosalug was not sure where he was. The city was so large - so unlike anything he had ever seen in Pylea, and the lights and the noise and the bustle of people did not make it easy for him to clear his head. He knew he was not the best thinker - knew ideas were not his strong suit. He was a champion - a warrior - he could protect the innocent and slay the monsters better than anyone else from his land, but he could not understand the intricate goings on of this strange world.

He found himself on the edge of a park - the gates had been locked for the night - but he scaled them, and immediately felt better. The wide open space, the greenery, the quiet… if he was lucky there may even be a monster for him to slay. He drew his sword and began to prowl through the undergrowth, alert for any sound. But as he patrolled, his mind still kept ticking over, thinking about the problem - and all the things he didn't understand.

Angel was a champion but he turned into a creature of evil. Groo remembered the savage beast he had been back in Pylea. There was a lot of darkness within the vantal - and he had willingly brought that out and endangered them all. And then there was his Majesty - chosen by The Powers to bear the pure sight - the Groosalug could not believe that the King could be anything less than noble and wise in all he did … but he was rejecting Kalimania and her child - the King's child. And he had been a party to bringing forth Angelus. And the rest of the group... They worked as champions - protecting the innocent, as the Groosalug did - but they were willing to do evil in order to achieve their ends - side with murderers and witches… And Kali said they would all turn on her - that they would blame her baby for what was happening, that she needed protecting. But then … Kali had been wrong when she told him to kill Angelus. What if Kali was wrong about all of it? For the first time in his life - the Groosalug wished he were a little bit brighter, less physical and more intellectual, so he could understand these complexities better...

… but it was too difficult. And the monsters were not forthcoming - his patrol was fruitless. He should probably return to the hotel and find out what was going on … if he could find it.

* * *

The electricity was still streaming from Gwen - hitting the men who threatened her - threatened to take L.I.S.A - and they were twitching and trembling as the charge surged into them - like felons strapped to the chair. After a moment of paused horror, Gunn snapped into action. These men were dying, Gwen was killing them. There was no way they could survive this for any longer. Irish had died from one quick blast.

He launched himself at the woman, knocking her to the ground and breaking the flow of electricity. Morimoto and his men fell to the floor - singed and unconscious. 'Liar,' Gunn got to his feet. 'You're not stealing it for someone else,' he said to Gwen, realising what all this had been about all along. 'It's for you. You think it'll fix you.' He held out his hand and helped her back to her feet - and then they hurried out of the basement, past the still unconscious men - and away from the party.

* * *

Lorne opened the door to the basement. It was dark inside, but when he flicked the light switch, nothing happened. 'Oh fudgesicle,' he muttered under his breath. He took out a flashlight and snapped it on, using it's narrow beam to guide him down the darkened steps.

When he got to the bottom he flashed it around the room - the hulk of Angelus' cage was still there, empty now, the door hanging loose. There was the faint squeak and scuffle of rats from the distant corners - and something was dripping, somewhere. When the apocalypse was over they might want to get someone in to see to that. But otherwise, this place was dark and dusty and isolated. Just what he needed.

He crossed to a table and took out a number of white candles. They were fresh, new, never been lit before; perfect for a ritual. He struck a match and held it to each wick in turn, until all the candles were ablaze with a little, flickering flame. His back was to the door and he was concentrating on the job in hand so, when the basement door was eased open - and Kali slid inside - he did not turn around.

...

She stood in the dark, at the top of the steps, and watched the empathic demon prepare his ritual - he seemed oblivious to her presence.

* * *

Gunn placed the Jade Tiger back amongst Gwen's collection of little animal ornaments. 'Back where he belongs,' he smiled at her. She had sat down in one of the leather armchairs and was watching him put back the goodie he had stolen with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 'I got to give you credit,' he admitted, 'you are stubborn.'

'I know what I want,' she shrugged.

'Yeah - I get that. At least I used to. Things aren't always so clear anymore.' Life had become very complicated these past few months- and even before that. A part of him missed the simplicity of when it was just him and his crew, their backs to the wall, staking the vamps. No future, a past that didn't matter - nothing but the here and now and the need to kill the bad guys. But he moved on up, since then. Grown up. The world was far more complex than his teenage self had ever dreamed. A lot of humans weren't to be trusted - that was no biog shocker, but that some demons could be friends had upended his entire world. And then there was Fred. And now there was the apocalypse. Safe to say, nothing was clear anymore.

'You seemed pretty clear tonight,' Gwen said to him.

'Adrenaline rush,' he smiled, 'when I was trying to save that girl…'

'I meant when you were saving me.'

He shrugged. 'Hey, I'm just the muscle.'

'Don't knock the muscle, buddy,' she said, 'Makes the girls go all knocky in the knees. But if that's all you were, we never could've gotten into that party tonight.'

But Gunn disagreed - she would have got into that part by herself, only the damage would have been significantly higher. She smiled again, she owed a lot to his brains over brawn approach.

Gunn sat down on the edge of the table, across from her, and tried to shrug off her words. It wasn't really brains so much as it was too many movies. Gwen rolled her eyes, 'they've really done a number on you,' she said to him. 'You really believe this 'I'm the muscle' crap.'

'This your version of a pep talk?'

'Could be, need one?'

He laughed and shook his head. He was good. She smiled - good. Rallying the troops was not her area of expertise. Then she looked at him, curiously. 'Why do you stay?' she asked, 'if that's all they see in you?'

'I'm a fighter,' he said, without hesitation, 'born and raised.' He belonged in the good fight - wherever he could do the most good. At the moment, that was alongside Angel. And he had to admit, he loved the work - when it was straight up slice and dice, that was. Not when it was interminable, apocalyptic soap opera. But if he just rode this out, the slice and dice would come back - he was sure of it. It was his turn to ask a question, 'you love being a thief?'

Gwen raised one of her gloved hands. 'I'm a freak,' she said, simply. 'Being a thief makes me a part of something - and not a part, at the same time. But, tonight?' She smiled, reflecting on the evening, 'yeah, I kinda loved it.'

'You know, for someone loving life, you seemed awfully willing to die for this thing.' He held up the prototype they had stolen - L.I.S.A.

Gwen sighed, and looked awkward. 'What you saw tonight, that's as bad as it gets, but even at its best... That thing might let me be—' she sighed, again, 'well, not normal - but … hold hands, maybe?' The reflective look came back to her face, and she nodded her head as she thought about her life - and what she would do to change it. 'So yeah, guess i was willing to die or even…' She cut herself off, not wanting to say it. 'You wouldn't understand,' she muttered.

'Sure I do, brainy - remember?' He looked at the L.I.S.A, 'wanna show me how this thing works?'

* * *

The moon was still staring down at Doyle - pale and cold. It didn't care about his troubles, he thought - nothing out there did. Apart from - maybe - someone in the hotel might … he wasn't sure, care enough to listen? Stick around long enough to have a drink? Be happy to sit in silence with him, whilst he brooded? Tell him everything was going to be OK? Offer some barest smidgen of hope that things weren't quite as bleak as they seemed? Whatever they could do - he couldn't sit out here, freaking out by himself any longer. His friends had given him his space - his privacy - when that was what he wanted, but now he wanted comfort - and he didn't really care which one of them it was that offered it, he just didn't want to be alone anymore.

He got to his feet and made his way back towards the lobby. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him - glancing around. There was no one stood by the counter. He crossed over to the office and looked inside - but there was no one there, either. 'Angel, man, are you around?' he called out. No answer. 'Wes?' he tried, again, 'Fred? Lorne? … Cordy?' he couldn't help his voice going up a note in hope, as he said the last name. But there was no reply - and no one to be seen.

He wandered back out to the lobby and stared around it, his brow lowered in consternation. He didn't understand it. They'd all been here a while ago - and Wesley had said they had nothing to be doing. He glanced up - turning so he could take in the whole of the balustrade and what was visible of the first floor. But it was all deserted. 'Where is everybody?' he called out. But there was no answer - only the echo of his own voice reverberating back to him.

* * *

Self consciously, Gwen stood in front of her bed - her back to Gunn - and slipped her dress from her shoulders. She gathered it round her waist and then pushed the silky curtain of her hair to one side - exposing the bare skin of her back. Then she lay forward on the bed. Her skin was tingling - her nerve ends were jangling with anticipation, with dread - and with an excitement she had never known before. L.I.S.A might fix her. But it might not work. But either way, she had never stripped in front of a man before, never been in a situation this intimate - and the newness of this experience was enough, by itself, to leave her breathing quick and shallow.

She felt the bed dip with Gunn's weight - as he sat down beside her. He had taken L.I.S.A out of the box and was looking at it. 'How do you fire this thing up?' he asked.

'It's not an xbox,' she fought to keep her voice even, 'just put it on.' He held it just above her skin - she could sense the closeness. 'Careful,' she warned, her voice still strained. He reached out and touched her back - just for a moment - with his fingertips. But it was enough to shock him. 'Ow,' he quickly retracted his hand. Gwen rolled her eyes, 'like I said…' He placed the device onto her skin, gently. She shuddered as the cold metal touched her, 'it's chilly,' she said.

Gunn leaned over to watch, as L.I.S.A fired into action. Text was scrolling across a little display screen and then four wires came out of the main body of the device and each pricked her skin. The machine lit up - and the 6 little needle like probes shot out and buried themselves under her skin. 'What's it doing?' Gwen asked, as she felt the strange sensations.

'You ever seen one of those body snatcher movies?' The probes were still moving beneath her skin, Gunn could see the pattern they were making, like a circuit. And then - as if the job were completed - the pattern faded away. 'Feel any different?' he asked her.

'Yeah …' she thought about it, 'not so much.'

Gunn reached out and tapped her again - the briefest touch of his fingertips. This time, nothing happened - and he touched her again, still tentative, but firmer this time. 'Think it worked,' he told her. He ran his hand down her back, tracing her soft skin with his fingertips.

Gwen held her breath as she felt the feathery light touch tickle down her back. It was soft and soothing and like absolutely nothing she had felt before. It gave her a sense of pleasure which shot a warm bolt directly into her belly. When she finally drew breath, it was ragged. 'That feels good,' she whispered, her eyes closed as she savoured this sensation for as long as it could last.

'So if you can't touch...' Gunn said, still tracing her skin with his fingertips, noticing the way she warmed beneath his touch - and her shallow gasps for breath, 'that must mean you never…'

She sat up, and wrapped her dress around her chest. 'No,' she agreed, quickly, 'nope. Anyway…' she turned to face him, 'thanks for turning me … off.'

He chuckled, 'any time. Thank you.'

'For what? The guards? The suit? The almost dying?'

'For the most fun I've had…' he leaned forward, 'since..' he brushed his lips against Gwen's.

She sighed. If his fingers on her back had been a sensation to savour then this was … she pulled away. 'You know, um … the device, um … it's only a prototype,' she warned, 'it might not hold.'

Gunn smiled. 'I've seen you bring guys back from the dead before. If you kill me - you know where my battery is.' He leaned forward again, and kissed her more deeply.

* * *

The candles flickered in the dark of the basement. Lorne still prepared his ritual - lighting incense and mixing potions. Kali waited, watchfully.

The demon pulled his cloak on over his head and began to chant - a Gregorian sounding chant, but without any words. He was holding some kind of orb, in his hands. Probably something mystical - she would smash it, once she was done, just to be safe. His back was still to her - this was her chance. She crept down the stairs, knife in hand - headed for Lorne - ready to plunge her dagger into his unsuspecting back and end any hope of him reading her, finding out the truth of her baby. But - just as she reached him - blade raised - the lights flickered on - and the vampire was stood right in front of her. 'What..?' She turned to flee - but Fred and Wesley came out of the shadows, crossbows raised. As she looked up to the stairs, hoping to make a break for it, she saw Cordelia stood by the light switch, holding a sword. Kali gazed around at them all - feeling trapped.

Lorne shook the orb in his hand. 'Has Kali been a bad bad girl?' he asked - and the magic 8 ball gave him his answer: Definitely.

* * *

**A/N 20 000 words of exposition? Don't mind if I do! - next episode is 'Inside Out'... season 4, man, season 4.**


	65. Inside Out: Part One

**Inside Out**

_Part One_

'So - it _has_ been you, all along,' Angel stared down at Kali. She smirked, 'in a manner of speaking,' she replied - looking around, undaunted by the team all gazing at her - weapons raised, 'took you long enough to figure it out. Nice turn with the Lorne bait, though. You know there was a time I would have seen that one coming aeons before it ever even crossed your tiny little mind.'

'Because you're so clever,' Angel stated - sounding unimpressed.

'On the scale of me to you - pretty damn.'

'Until now.'

'All good things,' she sighed. 'So, what finally tipped off the great detective and his crack team of do gooding champion wannabes?'

'Tongue, slip of - 'my sweet', you described your baby that way. It was the same phrase The Beastmaster kept whispering when he was inside Angelus' head. Thought it was a bit femme for the booming macho act.'

Kali raised a sardonic eyebrow. 'That's it?' she asked, unbelieving, 'I get away with bringing the world down around you - and two eentsy words start your spider senses tingling?'

'What we already knew, what he found out as Angelus - all the circumstantial led to you,' Wesley told her - keeping his crossbow trained on her.

'The only thing I wasn't sure was whether or not Doyle was in on the act,' Angel added, 'his being the father and all … but I'm guessing from the way you showed up alone to commit murder - whilst heavily pregnant - probably means he's off the hook. If Daddy was playing the game, he'd be the one down here holding the knife.'

Kali actually laughed out loud. 'The half breed,' she smirked in derision, 'he has already served his function. He's of no more use to me, now.'

'What was his use?' Cordelia asked - her own weapon also pointed at the demon woman. Her face was hard and cold. 'Saving you from Dorion's? Bringing you into the team? … or getting you pregnant?'

'You know, I think I'm getting a little tired of all these questions.'

'That's funny,' Fred told her, 'because we're still feeling awfully chatty. Why are you doing this?'

'You think I'm just going to tell you? Because you have me trapped?'

'It's over Kali,' Angel said to her, 'we've caught you - we've won.'

'Is that what you think?' She raised her knife and swung it towards the vampire. He grabbed her arm and twisted, and - with his other hand - he grabbed her around the neck, choking her out.

The basement door banged open - and they all swung their heads to look. The Groosalug appeared in the doorway. He stopped for a moment - taking in Kail held in Angel's grasp, around the neck, and the rest of the team gathered around her - pointing their weapons. His face screwed up with rage and he jumped the banister - landing on the floor below and then flew through the team, taking them out before they had a chance to react. He grabbed Angel and threw him at Wesley - both men tumbled to the floor. Lorne tried to shoot Groo with his tranquilliser gun - but the Groosalug kicked him to the ground. He punched out Cordy and, as Fred aimed her own tranq gun at him, twisted her arm - so that the dart went wide and hit Angel instead. Angel fell to the ground - his vision going blurry - and the Groosalug grabbed Kalimania and pulled her towards the sewer access. As she fled from the team, she gazed back over her shoulder - smirking.

* * *

The front door opened and Gunn walked in, his eyes were on his pager. 'Sorry,' he said to the assembled team, 'I just got your message - Being close to Electric Gwen can really screw your equipment. What …' he looked up from his pager and saw, for the first time, their dishevelled state - the various bruises, the torn clothes and the ice packs, '... the hell happened to you?' he finished up.

'Kali's evil,' Fred said, clutching her ice pack to her swelling jaw. She looked him up and down, 'nice suit,' she commented drily.

'Wait…' he looked around at them, 'are you telling me popping mama threw you a beating?'

'The undefeated champion turned up and doled out the beating,' Lorne said, 'Kali just mwahahad at us.'

'Why?'

'Beastmaster,' Angle said, succinctly.

'You think she's working for him?'

'She is The Beastmaster,' Doyle said. 'She's pregnant with my kid - and she's evil. Sounds about right for my luck.' He was sat by himself on the red sofa, outside the office, and looked just as gloomy as the last time Gunn had seen him, when he was still sulking outside.

Gunn wrinkled his forehead, 'and how come you're the only one not beaten up and bruised?'

'I wasn't invited along to their little powwow.' There was an edge to the Irishman's voice, as he spoke. Angel looked apologetic, 'I told you - I had to be sure you weren't a part of it, That you and Kali weren't in cahoots…'

'Yeah - you'd have liked that, wouldn't you?' Doyle muttered.

'It isn't about what I'd like, _Doyle_ \- it's about saving the world. Now we know Kali's The Beastmaster - we can get on and do that.'

'So .. if she's the evil genius that's been two stepping all over us the whole time,' Gunn sat down beside Lorne, 'gimme some of that,' he took the demon's SeaBreeze and took a hearty swig. 'Hey!' Lorne protested, but Gunn wasn't done, 'then - why'd she join up with us? Man - I always had her pegged - the answer was amongst us… but we agreed that if she was in cahoots with The Beast then there was no reason for her joining the team. Seems a pretty big risk - joining an evil fighting outfit when you're the ultimate evil. Wouldn't it have been more covert to stay the hell away?'

'Maybe it was because she needed to get to Angelus,' Angel said thoughtfully.

'Or maybe,' Cordelia got to her feet and then went to go and sit beside Doyle, 'the evil didn't start out in Kali at all. Maybe she really was an innocent when she came to us.' She took Doyle's hand and - when he looked up at her - she smiled apologetically. 'I'm sorry, Doyle,' she said - her voice was soft, 'I'm sorry to even have to think it... but we've been wondering about your amnesia for a while, now. What if the evil started off inside of you? What if it was controlling you? And it transferred itself to Kali when it made you sleep with her, but it wiped your mind before it left - because it knew you would tell us, if you remembered what you'd done. It hid your memories of it by taking them - just like it hid all mentions of The Beast by erasing them.'

Doyle stared at her. She stared back - her expression was sympathetic and she didn't break eye contact or stop holding his hand. 'You know we know you're not evil, Doyle,' she said, 'but I think there's a chance you were infected by it - once.'

'That would mean Doyle was the original Beastmaster,' Wesley said, 'he raised The Beast - told it to cause the rain of fire, destroy Wolfram and Hart - blot out the sun.'

'And anything The Beast couldn't do - Doyle would have done for it,' Angel surmised.

'Like what?' The half demon was staring around at them all - hoping one of them would tell him this wasn't true, they were playing him - it was just a theory, but they'd figure it out. He'd be off the hook somehow.

'Manny,' Angel told him, 'no way that was a Beast hit - you must have done it.'

'Wait a minute,' Gunn interrupted. Doyle looked hopeful. 'Manny was locked tight in that panic room when Gwen and me checked on him - you guys sat outside for four hours straight. No sign of Doyle. How'd he do it?'

Doyle looked at Angel expectantly. Maybe he wasn't guilty after all? He felt a faint flicker of hope stir in his chest. But it was Cordelia who crushed it for him. 'Maury,' she said. She squeezed his hand comfortingly and smiled a little sadly. 'Don't you remember, Doyle? You said the last time you had spoken to him was when he used magic to teleport you into the auction house - but when we went to see him, he was powerfreaked by you - seemed to think he'd seen you a lot more recently, and you'd really frightened him. He said he'd done a pretty big favour for you.'

'He gave me the mojo to get in and out of the panic room,' Doyle said, quietly.

'You cut the power - meaning the cameras didn't pick you up - and then you teleported in and out. God!' she sounded frustrated - and Doyle looked at her in alarm, worried she was suddenly angry with him. But she was angry with herself. 'Of course it was you who cut the power - you're the one who knows about wiring! I even wondered at the time if you'd taught Kali a little something, so she could have done it. It never occurred to me it might have actually been _you_!'

'So he killed Manny and gave The Beast the orb,' Fred said.

Doyle twitched, his hand jerking out of Cordelia's grasp. He had felt violated and dirty knowing that his body had slept with Kali, whilst his mind had no memory of it. But now it turned out that he had committed murder, as well? Not his mind - but his hands. So many times, it would seem, his body had betrayed him. The sex was an offence against himself - but this … he'd hurt - killed - other people. Their blood was on his hands. Their lives were lost because of him. He looked down at his treacherous hands - imagining the blood there. He gazed at the very tips of his fingers - and realised something with a sickening jolt. 'It wasn't just Manny,' he mumbled. He swallowed, hard, and then forced himself to look up at the rest of them. He was glad Cordelia was beside him, so he couldn't see her when he was looking at the rest of the team. He couldn't bear to look at her now he knew he was a murderer - and she knew it too.

'You killed somebody else?' Lorne asked, sounding puzzled.

Doyle nodded, 'yep.' He closed his eyes and sighed, 'The Svear,' he said, 'they were dead days before we found them. We found them just after I got my memory back, I must have…' he hung his head again, 'that little family … I never touched anything when we went there, Wes. I was so freaked out, remember? I guess because part of me must've known … but then Kate turns up because my fingerprints were at the house. They were there because I murdered the family. Kate only came here because I murdered that family. She's only dead because I murdered that family.'

'Doyle,' Cordelia took hold of his hand again and squeezed it hard, 'we know that wasn't really you. That you weren't in control - you didn't choose to do these terrible things. And we believe you, absolutely, that you don't remember. We know this is not your fault, you know?' she gazed at him, his head was still hanging low, 'it's really important that you know that, too,' she finished up, softly.

He nodded. But he still didn't look at her.

'Cordelia's right,' Angel said, 'this isn't your fault - but if you really were controlled by this evil thing that's now controlling Kali - we need to work out how it got inside of you.'

* * *

Groo hauled the warehouse door open and Kali stepped inside. She gazed around the wide, darkened space - rubbing her belly. 'Are you sure they won't be able to follow us?' she asked.

'I was careful, My Lady. I am trained in the ways of throwing predators off a scent. Even a drokken in full mating season would not be able to find us now.'

'And a vampire … or his little half brachen side kick?'

'His Majesty will not find us,' Groo promised. Then his handsome face creased into a frown. 'Why is it they were trying to hurt you, My Lady?'

She turned to look at him, 'you know why,' she said, simply. 'I told you before. They are afraid - afraid of my baby - and so foolish.' She shook her head, 'I always said it was only a matter of time before they turned on me - and now they have. And they won't rest until me and my baby are dead. And it is only after that has happened that they'll realise what a terrible mistake they made … in hurting me, in killing my sweet baby.'

'I will protect you - I shall not let them harm you, or his Majesty's child...His Majesty was not there, before,' he said - after a slight pause. 'His friends were attacking you, but not the King. Perhaps he can still be trusted? Perhaps he can protect you as -'

'Doyle cannot be trusted,' Kali interrupted him. 'He is weak, he can't protect me - and he doesn't wish to. He doesn't want this child and he doesn't want me. He will let his friends kill me, if it means he can be free of what he's done.'

The Groosalug shook his head. 'I confess I do not understand. His Majesty was chosen by The Powers to bear their rare gift - the true sight - why would they choose to bestow their gift on someone so unworthy? So unable to use his power wisely?'

'Because The Powers can be wilful - and capricious. They balance the scales - move the pieces across the chess board … but never fool yourself they care about the little people down below. That's why there are champions - like you - to care when The Powers will not. That's why my baby will make such a difference to this world. Doyle was unworthy of a rare and precious gift, but it was given to punish him - for the terrible deeds he had done.' She smiled, 'but he's a slow learner. He didn't atone back when he had the chance, back when it was his time to pay his debt in full, and now he makes things worse. Except for this baby. The one good he has ever done in this world is father my child - who will make everything better - balance out his worthless existence with their own infinite mercy. Unless he and his friends find me before it's time. Then they will kill me - and the darkness will win.'

'They will not find us,' the Groosalug promised, 'and if they do - I will kill them all, even his Majesty, rather than let them hurt you - or your special child.'

Kali wrapped her arms around him, holding him in a tight embrace. 'My sweet sweet boy,' she whispered in his ear.

* * *

Angel walked into the office - his axe held loosely in his hand. Doyle and Cordy and Wes were in there. Wes was behind the desk - in his old seat, as if the last year had never happened; Cordelia was balanced on the edge of the desk and Doyle sat in one of the chairs across from them. Angel sank down into the other chair - exhausted.

'Any luck?' Wesley asked him - but Angel shook his head. He'd swept the area until daybreak - checked the sewer tunnels extensively. He'd been able to pick up their scent one or two times but … nothing he could follow for any length of time.

'I'm guessing if Groo doesn't want to be found then he knows how to evade detection,' Cordelia said, 'doesn't that sound like the kind of skill they'd teach at undefeated champion school?'

'Yeah … you're probably right.' He looked between the three of them, 'so what about you guys, here - did you put anything together?'

'We've been working on a possible timeline of events for Doyle,' Wesley told him, leaning back in his chair. 'We know that - whatever happened - he came back to himself just after the sun was blotted out. And that was when the amnesia kicked in.'

'And the last thing I remember was us doin' that spell - to get Cordy's memory back,' Doyle added, 'I remember bein' 17 … or thinkin' I was, and then … there's just a blank wall o' nothin.'

'So you think the evil got into him then?' Angel asked, 'how? And why Doyle? It didn't affect the rest of us.'

'Lorne says there was nothing in that spell that could have put something there that wasn't there before,' Cordelia said, 'he told us everything he knew - Wes checked it out. The spell was for uncovering truths not for … infecting people with evil.'

'So Doyle was already evil?' Again he looked between the three of them. Doyle's head was hung low - and he wasn't contributing a whole lot. This whole situation seemed to be taking a lot out of him - hurting him. And Angel felt bad for pressing - but this needed to be done. Whatever had happened to Doyle, no matter how awful - no matter how invasive, they needed to know, if they were going to stop the thing that had violated their friend and was now infecting Kali.

But Cordelia was unsure that Doyle's evil predated the spell. 'His behaviour changed,' she said to the others, 'not massive things but … little things. I noticed - around the time The Beast showed up, I think. Definitely by the time we broke into Wolfram and Hart.'

'I didn't notice anything,' Wesley said. But Cordy shook her head, 'you wouldn't. Like I said - it wasn't big stuff. But it was stuff that just didn't sit right … if you know Doyle like I do.'

Doyle's head came up - and he finally looked at her. 'You started using swords instead of axes,' she told him, 'and you called Kali 'princess' … and not me… you were mean. To me. Lots of times. In lots of little ways. And then the sun went down and - you were normal again.' She blushed a little, 'you were kind again. nggghhh!' She gave an exasperated grunt of frustration, 'I should have known - straight away. The minute that black robe guy attacked Kali and me - nearly killed me - and all you did was check that she was OK and yell at me and call me selfish. How could I have not known it wasn't you?' She bit her lip and looked down, 'I'm sorry,' she apologised in a small voice, 'I really let you down. I know if it were me possessed by this evil thingy - acting all weird - you'd spot it right away. I guess maybe I don't know you as well as I thought, huh?'

'Cordelia - what were you gonna do? Look into my eyes and say 'hey that's not your body, come out of that body with your hands up?' Y' can't think I can blame y' for just thinkin' I was actin' like a jackass.' He squirmed in his seat, 'it's not like I've never let you down and acted like a jackass before,' he mumbled.

'This was different,' she said.

'And if y'd said anythin' - based on what I seem to have done during those weeks - I would have killed y', if I thought for a moment you suspected anythin' … or at least, the thing inside o' me would have killed y'. Used my hands. You can't think I could live with myself if I'd done that? Even if I didn't remember? I'm glad you didn't realise … it kept you safe. Kept everyone safe… apart from the Svear … and Kate.'

'Doyle - I know what this is like,' Angel said to him, 'how those deaths are eating you up. Knowing what you've done when you weren't yourself. Feeling the responsibility for something you couldn't stop. _Believe me_ \- I know. But you can't beat yourself up over this - can't blame yourself for what was done while something else was in control. But, if you wanna make amends, then we need to work out exactly what this thing is - and how it got inside of you. It might help us work out Kali's next move... Or understand what that thing growing inside of her is. So - if Lorne's spell isn't the thing that put the evil there - then what did?'

'Doyle?' Wesley asked, leaning forward again, and resting his elbows on the desk. 'Around the time of the spell - or in the months before it - did anything strange happen? Anything that stands out as peculiar. Any symptom that - looking back - could have been a sign?'

Doyle gulped. The others all noticed. 'What?' they all asked in unison. He buried his face in his hands for a moment - and took a deep breath - before daring to look up again. They were all staring at him expectantly. 'My visions,' he admitted.

'What about them?' Wes frowned.

'I wasn't havin' 'em. For months. I didn't have a vision for months before I lost my memory.'

'But that's not true,' the watcher corrected him, 'you had a vision of that bird demon, you had a vision of Madam Dorion's, all over the summer we were following your visions…'

But Doyle was shaking his head. 'I was lying,' he whispered. 'I was making them up. You were barely around and I'd go patrolling by myself. I'd come across some danger and then I'd tell you I had a vision about it. But it was all lies.'

'Why would you lie?' Cordelia asked him, and he was sure that he could hear the disappointment in her voice. That he was still lying. That he still couldn't be trusted - he had never learned his lesson. 'I .. I was afraid,' he admitted. 'I thought that - I dunno - The Powers had abandoned me, decided I wasn't good enough to be their messenger after what we did to Angel. I couldn't … I couldn't face anyone knowin' I'd been kicked off the good fight by the higher powers - so I made 'em all up. The jarvlen flesh eater, the sheerhoth demons in the sewer tunnels - all of 'em.' He frowned, 'but then - that night at Dorion's - I had this sense of destiny. I couldn't describe it - but it was tellin' me what to do. It led me to the information on Kali. And when I met Kali … it was like my senses exploded with destiny overload - my ears were ringing with the sense of rightness I got from her. I thought … I hoped … that maybe the way The Powers spoke to me had changed. That I didn't have to have the mind numbing, skull cracking vision headaches anymore 'cause I could do this weird tingly thing.'

'But in all probability that wasn't The Powers speaking to you,' Angel said, his brow lowered as he thought it through, 'that was probably the evil inside of you - leading you to Kali so it could use her, like it was using you.'

'Doyle, when was the last time you remember having a real, bona fide vision - before they stopped?' Cordelia asked. 'Can you remember?'

He nodded. 'I remember it exactly,' he said. 'a girl in Reseda summoning a demon by accident… it was on my birthday.'

Angel looked nonplussed, 'so … what happened on your birthday?'

* * *

'What's wrong?' Kali asked. The Groosalug had not moved for a long time - and his handsome face was creased with consternation. 'Are you _thinking?_' she couldn't help the slight note of incredulity - and impatience - which laced her voice.

He shook his head - as if dispelling his thoughts. But, when he looked at her, his strange, black eyes were still clouded and concerned. 'It is … I came to this dimension to seek his Majesty's wise counsel,' he told Kali. 'I had failed in my duty to rule my land - great hardship had broken out - the people were unhappy and warring and I did not know what to do. So I sought out the rightful king. Now you tell me he was never wise; that he is weak and foolish. If I find myself in a strange world, because I followed a weak and foolish man - then what does that make the Groosalug?'

'It makes you a champion who sees the best in people, believes the best of them,' Kali told him, 'but perhaps - your own innate goodness - means that you cannot always trust your own judgement. As you expect others to be as truly noble as yourself.'

'And if I can't trust my own judgement, what then, Noble Lady?'

She smiled. 'Sweet boy - you trust mine.'

'Perhaps you are wrong,' he suggested, 'the King - he was not there when the others tried to kill you. Perhaps you are wrong about him. It was him that told me to protect you - he told me to protect you for his sake.'

'That was before he used me and threw me away and left his child in my belly,' Kali snapped. 'Now he doesn't want you to protect me. He wants to kill me. And the baby. And you, if you stand in the way.'

'But why?'

'You know why, Groo,' she made her voice warm and honeyed, again, smoothing over the frustration of her earlier tones, 'I already told you.'

'Because we're special?' he said.

'Right,' she smiled - soft and encouraging, 'we are special. And my baby - is going to be extraordinary.'

* * *

Fred and Gunn had been up in Angel's room - rooting through the things Kali had left behind, which they now had in a large cardboard box. They went through the contents with Angel, as he rummaged for something in his desk. 'Scented candles, couple of broken pieces of the Muo-Ping, and some toiletries that smell way too pretty to be evil,' Fred listed - lifting the things out of the box as she spoke.

Angel shifted some papers aside and found what he was looking for in the desk - something which looked like a bronze coin, with a hole in the middle. He smiled in satisfaction and flipped it into the air, catching it again.

'It's not much to go on,' Fred was saying, 'as insidious lairs go - it kept your rooms nice and tidy, took good care of Connor - I think it even vacuumed.'

'Is Connor still upstairs?' Angel asked.

'Still sleeping,' Gunn told him.

'Keep checking on him whilst I'm gone. He should sleep through the night but …'

'We'll be there in a second if he wakes up,' the street fighter promised. 'No tears. No dramas.'

'Thanks - and keep working on a way to locate this thing. If I'm not back in a couple of hours…'

'You're dead, we're screwed, end of the world.'

'Or you could stay here with us,' Fred said, smiling nervously, 'here's nice.'

'I've done this before,' Angel gave her a reassuring grin, 'don't worry. Walk in the park.'

* * *

He landed in the dungeon dimension - and a demon ran at him, sword raised. He ducked the swinging blade and then straightened up, punching the demon out. It fell to the floor. 'I hate the park,' he said.

He picked up the fallen sword and crept into the next chamber. There was another demon in there, it's back was turned - it was making growling, grumbling sounds. Angel snuck towards it, his sword raised. But, before he could swing, the demon turned around. It started. 'Oh! Jeez! Angel! Don't they knock in your dimension?' Skip asked.

Angel looked the massive bronze demon up and down, 'sorry, wasn't sure it was you.'

'Powerful demon Skip at your service,' he said, 'hey - I've got more buffalo wings or … the games on in five if you wanna...'

'Actually I'm a little pressed for time. I'm here to ask you about Doyle.'

'Who?'

'Doyle. When I came down here - rescuing Billy to stop a friend being tortured - that was for him. He's a messenger for the Powers That Be - has the pure sight, the visions. And he tells me you're his spiritual guide.'

'Oh - right - yeah - _that _Doyle. Yeah I know who you mean. What about him?'

'Where did you take him - on his birthday?'

Skip looked alarmed, 'hey, look, man - I told him the rules - he agreed fair and square…'

'To go with you someplace?'

'He went alone.'

'Why?'

'The Powers felt he needed to learn a lesson. About the importance of our little Pinocchio always telling the truth. Has he been telling any more lies recently? Covering anything up? Because you know - that's what we were trying to cure him of.'

'By taking away his visions?'

'Doyle's still got the visions. Heard on the QT he had one about you - well, the other you. The evil twin. How'd that work out?'

'Great. So you didn't take his visions? But you did put something inside of him? Some kind of essence?'

'He needed it to make the journey back - otherwise he'd be trapped there,' Skip explained, 'and once the girl was dead, he didn't want to stay.'

'But … you said The Powers sent him there to learn a lesson?' Angel said, lowering his brow in confusion - his mind was whirring as he tried to figure his way through this. 'So they always meant for him to return home.'

'Sure. Why not?'

'But you make it sound like it was his choice to come back … and why send him somewhere he couldn't return from easily, if they didn't want him to get trapped there?'

'Mysterious ways - you know how it is, drives you nuts.'

But Angel was still thinking. 'Maybe something lured him there - took him there on purpose to put this essence inside of him. Hey, Skip - you last saw him in the summer right?'

'Uh - yeah - OK.'

'And you told him to follow his instincts.'

'I just pass the messages along.'

'And those instincts led him straight to Kali …' He was figuring it out.

'I'm not following you there, champ.'

Angel took a few steps towards the massive, bronze demon. 'Well, you said it yourself. You're his guide. It was you who convinced him to go to this other realm - to learn his lesson - and that's where you put the essence in him. And ever since then, he's been cut off from the visions and having feelings of destiny which led him straight to the woman who has been orchestrating our recent apocalypse. He was guided - the whole way - into bringing this thing into our world and then letting it infect first him and then Kali - who are then forced to act as its agents. That was the whole purpose of his journey to this other realm. So the question is - your role in this - were you duped like the rest of us? Or have you been in on this from the start, Skippy?'

Skip laughed, nervously. Angel joined in - but his laugh was sarcastic. 'Angel, buddy,' the demon said, 'whatever's going on, I'm telling you true…' he raised his forearm and a sharp dagger sprang forth from his exoskeleton, '... not a dupe.'


	66. Inside Out: Part Two

_Part Two_

Skip lunged towards Angel. Angel swung his sword at the demon, but it could not penetrate his hard body armour - and it simply bounced off. Skip grabbed the sword straight out of Angel's grip and then tossed it aside. Then he grabbed the vampire by the neck, 'not like last time - is it, monkey boy?' He threw Angel across the room. He flew through the air and then thumped to the ground in a heap. Skip walked towards him, as he staggered back to his feet. 'You know what the worst part of this gig was?' he asked - grabbing Angel by the hair and punching him, 'having to take a dive when you rescued the runt Billy from his box of fire.' He kicked Angel across the room. Again, the vampire landed in a heap. 'I mean - come on! You really think a guy like this would be so easy to drop?' He walked back towards where Angel was still collapsed, 'This time we do it for real, champion. This time…' he grinned, 'you lose.'

* * *

The Groosalug stood by the window in the warehouse, staring out - his sword was drawn and he was completely still, the way he had learned in Pylea. 'They won't stop, you know that?' Kali said to him, 'The King - his friends - they won't give up looking for us. Eventually they'll find us.'

'You have nothing to fear, Lady, they will be no match for the blade of the Groosalug.'

Kali looked at him, her mouth was crooked into a discerning smile as she considered his words, 'come over here,' she said to him. He finally broke his stillness and turned to look at her, 'I want you to feel what you're fighting for,' she said to him - holding her hand out for him.

He went to her - and she held his hand against her belly. He smiled - his sweet, thoughtless smile, 'it is moving within you,' he said.

'Babies always move when they are happy,' she told him, 'it can tell - that there is a true champion close by, someone willing to love and protect them - when their own father cannot. My baby has grown used to you being close, Groo … I am so lucky, my baby and I are so lucky to have found someone like you. I'm so thankful… I just wish Angel and Doyle and the others would let us be happy.'

'I shall make them,' he promised.

But she shook her head. 'You can't - they're too afraid. But maybe when they see how beautiful my baby is…'

'You truly believe that seeing the child will bring them back to their senses?' The Groosalug asked. 'That it will change the way they feel?'

'My baby will change everything,' she smiled.

'And how long is there,' he asked, his hand still caressing her bump, 'until we can show them - until we can make them see?'

She put her hand on top of his, 'a week, maybe two…' then she sighed - and turned from him, his hand fell away. 'But they will find us before then, I know they will. They will find us and then …'

'I will not let them harm you. I promise.'

'You are brave,' she said turning back to him. She cupped his face with her hand and smiled up at him. He smiled back down, adoringly, 'and good,' she whispered. 'And there is no one stronger - no one more fitting to be my champion. But they are cunning - they know magic - and there are more of them then there are of us. I fear - I'm so afraid - that if you face them as a team, they will defeat you.'

'No-'

'But it would only take a moment! You only need be out for the count for the briefest moment for them to steal me away. For them to hurt me. We cannot wait for them to find us. There has to be another way … something we can try.'

'Name it and it will be done.'

'Perhaps we can find a way to bring the baby into the world now - before anyone can harm us.'

'How?'

She stroked his face, again, 'I'll need some very special things. Do you think you can get them for me?'

* * *

Doyle was sat in Wesley's office - alone. The others had gone off to research or prepare or … everyone was busy doing something, getting ready to clear up the mess he'd created. And he was left alone in the office. He had taken out the bottle of scotch - it was still right where it had been the year before. He guessed no one but him or Wes ever touched it anyway. The bottle was a little dusty - but the scotch was still good. He poured himself a tumbler and necked it. Then he poured another. And then he just sat and stared at the amber liquid in the glass - wondering if he was going to get drunk - wondering if he was going to let himself fall well and truly off the wagon … again. Or if he could cut himself off after a couple of stiff belts.

The door opened and Cordelia came in, bearing two cups of coffee. 'I thought you might have that,' she said, nodding towards the bottle, 'so I brought you this…' she put the coffee cup down, 'instead.'

'Thanks, princess.' He didn't look up. His voice was blank.

'This,' she picked up the bottle, 'I'm putting away, and _this_ …' she picked up the full glass of scotch, 'you can have when you want it - not when you need it.' She put the tumbler back in the cupboard with the bottle, balancing a coaster over the top of it, to seal it. Then she closed the liquor cabinet and sat down across from Doyle. 'Tell me what you're thinking about,' she said to him, curling her legs up in the chair, beneath her, and holding her warm coffee cup against her chest.

He leaned back in his own chair, bringing his hands up to rest clasped against his head and closing his eyes. 'You don't wanna know.'

'Sure I do - that's why I asked. '

'What difference does it make?'

'_Because_ \- if I don't know what you're thinking, then I can't make you feel better.' She took a sip of her coffee. 'So, you tell me everything that's worrying you - every reason you're sat in here sulking, alone - and I can tell you how stupid you're being.'

He smiled at that. 'I don't think I'm bein' stupid, darlin',' he told her, 'I wish it was as simple as that. But I don't think even your special brand o' pep talks is gonna solve the mess I've got myself in.'

'Oh ye of little faith!' She softened her tone. 'Tell me?'

He looked at her for a long moment - and then nodded his agreement. 'OK - I feel… too much. Just all too much. Guilt…'

She blew a raspberry. He stopped and looked at her, 'I'm sorry - carry on,' she said.

'Yeah - guilt. There's a lot o' guilt. The people I killed. The people who are dead because of what I did. Kate. What I've done to Kali. I can't just raspberry my way outta that Cordelia. That stuff is on me.'

'None of it was your fault. You weren't you.'

'Yeah - well - if it's as simple as all that, why does Angel have to spend his unlife atoning for what Angelus did?'

'Because broody boy loves to brood. He thinks it makes him interesting - and gives him an excuse to wear nothing but black. That's not you, Doyle. You were possessed. You weren't in control - something got inside of you, made you do things against your will and you don't even remember it. You're the victim here! It's not your guilt to bear.' Then she noticed the way he'd gone still, the way he'd shut down as she was talking. She put her cup down, frowning. 'What?' she asked. 'What is it?'

'The guilt … the guilt's the easy stuff,' he mumbled. 'I'm feelin' that so I don't have to…' He went still again, cutting himself off.

Cordelia's demeanour changed - she straightened up and leaned forward. 'Doyle?' she said softly.

'I don't know how to say it,' he said, '...I don't wanna say it.' His voice was so quiet that, even leaning forward, she could barely hear him. She wasn't sure what to do. She'd never seen him like this before, and she'd seen him in some pretty bad states over the years: drunk, beaten up, cursed, riddled with his own self loathing. That had been the easy stuff. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, but his hands were too far away - so she stayed still and waited; holding her breath. Afraid of what she might be about to hear.

'I…' he took a deep breath. He had brought his hands down, now - his elbows were on the armrest of his chair and his fingers were linked together in front of his chest. He was staring down at his thumb nails, refusing to look at Cordy. 'I can't stand the thought of that thing inside o' me,' he confessed - still not speaking above a whisper. 'I feel … my skin … my insides … it's like I can still feel it there. Dirty. Infectin' me. I wanna rip it out - I wanna claw open my own chest and rip it out of me. I want to forget. I want my skin to stop tingling. It doesn't feel like it's mine any more. I've been tainted - used and thrown away - and what's left of me is dirty.'

Cordelia just stared at him. She was barely daring to breathe - not wanting to interrupt, but not wanting to hear any more.

'I can't stop thinkin' about all the things it made me do whilst it was inside o' me,' Doyle was saying. 'The blood on my hands from where I killed … I got no idea half the stuff it made me do. It's like I can't trust myself anymore - my hands aren't mine, can't be mine - 'cause they killed that family - that little boy with his teddy. And that's just my hands…' he shuddered, wishing Cordelia hadn't hidden his drink away in the cabinet. He needed it right now - coffee wasn't going to cut it. He closed his eyes for the next part - and when he spoke it was through gritted teeth. 'It made me have sex with Kali,' he said. 'I didn't want to - it forced me. And I know I don't remember but …'

'You still feel it,' Cordelia said, gently.

'I can't shift it - the feelin'. I can't stop imaginin'...' he shuddered - and then he finally looked up. 'And whatever I'm feelin' - that's exactly what I've done to Kali. And I should feel bad about that - I gave her the same disease - but I'm so … freaked out about what happened to me that I don't have room to care about Kali … and then I feel guilt about that. This baby that I've fathered is the big evil that's gonna destroy the world … and I'm too freaked out about sex I don't remember havin' to even care. I should … I need to sort my priorities - I guess.'

'No,' Cordelia shook her head, 'Doyle - you leave us to worry about Kali and the hell spawn. You have every right in the world to feel the way you do - without thinking about other people. You don't have to think about anybody but yourself, right now,' she finished up, softly.

'Thinkin' about me isn't gonna solve the problem,' he said. He bit his lip and looked ceilingward - Cordelia wondered if he was trying to prevent himself from crying.

'No,' she said - gentle but firm, 'killing the evil thing is what will solve the problem - and that is what we - the whole team - are going to do. For you.'

'And that will make me feel better?'

'I don't know,' she admitted. 'I don't know what will make you feel better.'

'Cordelia … that evil thing is my child. The only child I'll ever …'

'I know,' she said, quietly.

* * *

Angel was back on his feet. He threw a punch - but Skip deflected and then slammed him to the ground. 'Well now - this is just embarrassing.'

'Tell me…' Angel staggered upright again, 'what you did to Doyle.'

'Or what? You'll bleed on me some more?'

Angel lumbered towards him and threw some punches. A couple landed but they just glanced off the hard exoskeleton of the massive demon. None of them fazed him. He ducked the next blow and then landed one of his own. It floored the vampire - who was knocked off his feet one more time. 'You know, I've always wondered,' Skip said - headed for him , 'how many chunks do you have to hack off a vampire before he goes all dust bunny?'

'Tell me what you did…'

'Yeah. Heard that part.'

Back on his feet, Angel hit Skip several times in the torso - as hard as he could - and, when Skip's fist came swinging towards him in retaliation, he ducked out of the way. Then he jumped up and grabbed hold of a chain, which was hanging from the ceiling, he swung across the room - landing on the other side, and pulling some of the chain down with him. But Skip was already waiting for him - and knocked him to the ground, once more. 'What are you, Tarzan? See - this is how it's gonna go down. You're gonna die, down here - and none of your little friends are ever going to know what happened to you. Meanwhile - up there - all hell is gonna break loose, when Doyle's baby pops into being - and aint nobody gonna stop it. Least of all the doting daddy.'

But Angel wasn't listening. He grabbed the chain and scrambled back up - once again. But this time - instead of getting in close for an attack - he swung the chain, lashing it out at Skip. As it hit against the body armour, it snagged on a spur sticking out of the demon's hand. Angel pulled, and the chain ripped the spur off as it fell away. Skip yelled out. Angel lashed out with the chain again - and then again. He was swinging for Skip's face now - and he had the demon on the ropes, he was staggering back. Finally - the chain snagged on an even larger spur - this one sticking out of Skip's neck. Angel pulled and tore it away - leaving an oozing, open wound. Skip screamed - and his hand flew to his neck - and Angel stepped forward. He began to punch Skip over and over and over again. The demon was swaying, staggering backwards - and Angel just kept hitting. 'You really think that's gonna…' Skip said.

Angel punched him again - one final, powerful blow - and he fell backwards and hit the ground, unconscious. 'Yeah, I do,' Angel said. He looked down at his fist - at where he had wrapped the chain around it - and then he let his makeshift weapon fall to the floor.

* * *

Fred, Wesley, Gunn and Lorne were in the lobby - researching. Cordelia had gone to speak to Doyle and they were giving them some privacy. Doyle was taking the news of his possession even harder than he had taken the news he was going to be a father - and they felt it best that they leave him with Cordelia, who was the best placed of all of them to try and console him.

Fred had an article open and was pacing up and down, as she read it. 'Here's something,' she told the men, 'maybe I can…'

The interdimensional portal opened up right at her feet - glowing bright white - and Angel and an unconscious Skip fell to the ground, beside her. 'Have an embolism!' she yelped. The bronze disc spun on the floor - and, when it clattered down, the portal closed behind them.

The men all got to their feet and rushed forward to look. 'What happened?' Wesley asked.

'We had words,' Angel said.

'Between the pummelling?' Lorne asked him - staring at the battered and unconscious demon in the vampire's grasp.

'Whatever happened to Kali - whatever was done to Doyle - he's a part of it,' Angel explained. 'We need to bind him to this dimension,' he winced in pain - as the aches from the fight crashed in on him. The team just stood where they were, staring down at him - frozen. 'Before he wakes up would be nice,' Angel said, gazing up at them in annoyance.

* * *

The girl left her bible study class and began to head home. She became aware of someone prowling behind her - and she turned to look. It was a man - but his face … there was something up with his face. She dropped her books and began to run. But he was too fast and caught her easily, leering down at her, as she began to cry. 'I love 'em when their young,' the vampire said to her. He leaned down to bite. She whimpered…

And then he just vanished - exploded in a cloud of dust. The girl looked alarmed. There was another man stood right behind where the first one - the monster - had been. This one was tall and handsome, but strange looking. He wore animal skins and had long hair - and completely black eyes. 'Are you alright, little one?' The Groosalug asked.

'He tried to kill…'

'I know. Did he harm you?'

'No - you stopped him. Thank you.' She began to cry in relief, 'oh God thank you - thank you so much.'

She didn't see his fist coming. He punched her out and she fell - unconscious - to the ground.

* * *

'She's perfect,' Kali smiled down at the unconscious girl the Groosalug had brought her. 'Did you manage to get everything else?'

'Yes, My Lady.' He sounded troubled - and Kali gave him a swift glance. 'I know what your heart is telling you,' she said to him. 'But hearts will lie if you let them. You have to trust me. Be sad, mourn for her, but never forget the truth. She's one of them. One of the average, normal people that fill this world. But what we're doing will elevate her life beyond that and give her death meaning. Her blood for my baby. For our family. For our happiness. That's more than fair - don't you think?'

* * *

When Skip awoke he found himself trapped in a narrow cylinder of red light. There was a circle of sand spilled around his feet - and the whole of the vampire's team were stood, watching him. He put his hand out to touch the light - he couldn't get through. 'Sand of the red palm,' he identified the binding spell they had used - and laughed, 'a child's trick.'

'Then why don't you come out and play,' Gunn suggested.

'In time.'

Angel folded his arms across his chest and glowered at the demon. 'You'll have a lot of that after we make your accommodations a little bit more permanent. Fred?'

Fred held out an open book - showing the page to Skip. 'Sphere of the Infinite Agonies. Every second a lifetime. Should be able to whip one up in, um... twenty minutes.'

'Everything you know - or she starts whipping.'

Skip held his hands up in surrender. 'Hey - hang on a minute. I'm only a merc. I go where the deal is - and not getting stuck in one of those? Bargain.' He looked around at the gang, 'anyone got a cig?'

Cordelia was staring at the trapped demon, her eyes narrowed, 'I know you …' she said slowly, trying to place him.

'My fame goes before me.'

But Doyle had questions he wanted answering - and he wasn't interested in wasting time on banter with his erstwhile spiritual guide. 'Were you ever really my guide sent by The Powers?' he asked him, like Angel - he also had his arms folded across his chest, forming a defensive barrier between him and the creature that had caused all these things to happen to him. 'Or were you always pulling for the other team?'

Skip shook his head and tutted, 'check out me - getting spanked by team chump monkey.'

'Answer the question,' Angel said.

'I was always pulling for the other team - hey, the money was good.'

'So The Powers were never tryin' to teach me a lesson?'

Skip snorted. 'The Powers That Be? Immortal higher beings locked in an eternal balance of good vs evil - balancing the scales - taking time out of the struggle to teach little Pinnochio he must not tell lies? Please!'

'So what happened on Doyle's birthday?' Wesley questioned, 'you altered reality and the creature you serve took the opportunity to hitch a ride back to this reality inside of Doyle?'

'Drill a little deeper. That was the entire reason we did it. We told him we altered reality - that we wrote over time. But that's big mojo. What we did was much easier. Slipped into an alternate dimension, a different plane of existence - crafted to look like the world Doyle knew, but subtly altered. Took nothing more than a portal and a glamour and voila - Doyle, here, was on the same plane of existence as the being I serve.'

'And that being hopped inside?' Angel said.

'Hey - Doyle knew what he was doing. I told him - he agreed to take that essence inside of him. I warned it would alter him, warned there'd be consequences - that he might live to regret it. He took it gladly.'

'Cordelia died in that reality!' Doyle yelled. 'O'course I took it.'

'Cordelia wasn't real - was she?' Wesley realised, 'none of it was - you led Doyle through that world by the nose, giving him just enough information to find his way back to the people that mattered to him - and then you made sure the Cordelia he found died. So he'd have no choice but to come back to this world - no choice but to accept what you wanted to put inside of him.'

'Well - at least one monkey boy is thinking,' Skip smiled, 'that's pretty much exactly how it went - yeah.'

'But - why me?' Doyle asked him, 'out of everyone in the world - why did y' pick on me?'

'Truth be told - you weren't our first choice,' Skip said. 'Fact is - we've been planning this for aeons - since before mankind came crawling out of their caves. And we had a vessel picked out - ready to hold the one I serve … but fate got in the way.'

'What do you mean?' Fred asked.

'Someone up there,' he gestured towards the ceiling, 'some higher power got to meddling, Screwed our pooch - as it were. Apparently they saw our plan and they didn't like it. So they intervened. Our first choice vessel is still here - but they're useless to us now. Our whole plan was upended and we've been kinda doing it all on the fly, ever since. Like our chosen vessel, though - Doyle was linked to the great beyond.'

'The great beyond?' Cordelia repeated, her eyes still narrowed.

'The PTB - the higher beings - Doyle has an open connection to the big guys in the sky - and that's what we needed. We couldn't pour the essence into just anybody, it had to be someone with a mystical link to The Powers. _But_ \- unlike our chosen vessel - Doyle lacks the requisite internal organs to bring the essence into being.'

'What the hell does that mean?' Doyle asked.

'It means you aint got no oven to keep a bun in,' Gunn translated for him, thinking about how Kali was now in the family way. 'Their original vessel was a girl, am I right?' he asked Skip

'Another monkey boy thinking,' Skip nodded. 'Female, part demon and connected to the powers - that was what we needed. But after the meddling of the higher power - that was precisely what we didn't have. But Doyle, here, ticked two out of the three boxes - and once the essence was inside of him - it would be easy enough to pour it into any old demon girl.'

'Enter Kali,' Angel said.

Skip nodded again, 'poor kid,' he said, 'there really was nothing that special about her. She was just one demon girl in a world of demon girls - chosen because she was a looker - and the plan would go more smoothly if guys weren't asking too many difficult questions. Men are such simple creatures when presented with a pretty girl - even if she is purple.'

'So - you just picked her at random?' Cordelia asked, 'one girl in all the world? What? Did you just close your eyes and stick a pin in a map?'

'Pretty much - pretty, demon, girl - that was the requirement. Plus - she was romantic enough to fall in love with whoever rescued her from danger - no matter how much of a short, hairy schmuck he turned out to be - that was a bonus.'

'Hey!' Cordelia protested.

'So …' Angel said, 'you manipulate Madam Dorion's people into kidnapping Kali - and Doyle into finding her. And then he slept with her - passed on the essence - and now tag - she's it?'

'Pretty much sums it up.'

'So where is she now - and what is she doing?'

* * *

Kali sat on the warehouse floor - she was surrounded by a circle of white candles, and was sitting in the middle, chanting. 'Vanu'esh. Katahn darh'im. Vajra'ha'esh. Vanu'esh. Katahn darh'im. Vajra'ha'esh.'

Groo watched her from across the room. His heart was uneasy. He loved Kali. He wanted to serve her - he wanted to make her happy by doing everything she asked of him … but he could not help but fear that what she was asking of him was wrong. And he would burn in Tarknah for following along with her plans.

He walked into the next room - and looked at the girl lying there, still unconscious. She was very young, still only a child. Her head rested against the wall, looking like she was sleeping. But a bruise was blooming across her left eye - where the Groosalug, himself, had hit her. He could still hear Kali chanting, as he stood and considered the young girl: 'Vanu'esh. Katahn darh'im. Vajra'ha'esh. Vanu'esh. Katahn darh'im. Vajra'ha'esh Vanu'esh. Katahn darh'im. Vajra'ha'esh.'

The girl woke up with a gasp - and her eyes widened in fear, as she saw the Groosalug stood close by, watching her. 'Do not be afraid,' he said to her, 'I shall not hurt you … again.'

'Please…'

'Shall I get you some water?'

'I gotta go home,' she wept, 'my mom's gonna be so mad.'

'I am sorry - but you cannot.'

'Please - I won't tell anyone,' she pleaded, 'I promise, just let me go.'

The Groosalug bit his lip - and glanced back at where Kali was still performing her ritual.


	67. Inside Out: Part Three

_Part Three_

'You really think it matters - where she is, what she's doing?' Skip asked, scornfully. 'Nothing - and I mean nothing - I have to tell you is gonna change what's gonna happen.'

The team all stared at him, trapped inside the cylinder of red light. 'Cut the doom and gloom crap,' Angel said, his tone impatient, 'just tell us what's taken over Kali - what did you put inside Doyle, huh? What has he infected her with?'

'Something beyond your comprehension. To give it voice would render your feeble brain into a quivering mass of …'

Angel looked at Fred, 'infinite agony,' he said - and began to walk away. Fred held the book up - ready to start whipping.

'OK you got me!' Skip called out. Angel stopped and turned back. 'It doesn't even have a name!'

'Then what do you call it?' Gunn asked.

'Oh, Master - or 'hey'.'

'Infinite agony for real this time,' Lorne said.

But Angel was busy thinking, he still had his arms folded and his brow was lowered. 'None of this makes sense,' he said. 'Doyle is connected to the PTB - their messenger. They have a direct line to his brain - how did they not see this coming?'

'Like I said,' Skip shrugged, 'brand new plan - going with the flow, seizing opportunities when they arose. Hell we've been flying by the seats of our pants ever since the half breed failed to pop his clogs and fulfil his destiny - what was it - three years ago, now? Bit longer? You can't be one step ahead of someone if even they don't know what their next move is.'

'Right - yeah - I'm meant to be dead, heard that a few times,' Doyle said, 'saw it that one time too, if that was even real…'

'Oh that part was real,' Skip told him. Doyle shuddered - remembering his dying self's agonising scream of pain - and the way the light of the beacon had melted his face right off his head. 'Fine - I was meant to die that night on the boat, that's the night destiny changed and it left the whole higher planes hoppin' - I get it. But are you honestly tellin' me the PTB didn't notice you take me to that crazy alternaworld and then trick me into accepting the essence of this unnamed evil?'

'Sure they noticed,' Skip told him, 'why do you think they stopped sending you the visions?'

Wesley frowned, 'what do you mean?' he asked, leaning forward.

'Jeez,' Skip muttered under his breath, 'do I have to spell everything out for you guys? Look - Doyle is - a conduit - of sorts. His mind receives messages from a higher plane of existence and he then conveys it to you lowly chump monkeys down here in this crappy dimension. That is no small amount of mojo right there. Pinnochio may not look much, but his entire body is a mystical gateway between the lower and higher realms.'

Everyone turned to stare at Doyle - as if they were seeing him properly for the first time. He stared right back at them - looking equally surprised.

'Which is why you needed it to be him that took in the essence,' Wesley said, thoughtfully, turning back to Skip. 'He is the gateway that your master needed to step through in order to enter our world.'

'Precisely - and the PTB spotted what was going on the moment it happened. Ineffable - omniscient - yada yada - real pains in the ass.'

'So … they stopped the visions - they closed the gateway,' Fred realised.

'Yeah - and my master gets stuck forever inside the half breed - unable to rise, unable to manifest, unable to move into a more fitting body.'

'You mean a female one?' Cordelia clarified.

'Bingo.'

'So,' Doyle cleared his throat and shuffled his feet uncomfortably, 'what changed? That thing took me over, in the end - how come?' But it was Wesley that answered, 'the spell,' he said softly, 'Lorne's memory spell - it uncovered truths, woke up those that were sleeping...'

'You mean _we_ woke it up?' Fred asked looking horrified. 'So - if Cordelia had never lost her memory - none of this would have ever happened. We'd all still be safe…'

'Until I found another way to raise my master,' Skip agreed. Cordelia's eyes suddenly widened in recognition, 'hey!' she said, 'I know where I know you from! It was you! Back at the casino - you knocked me out. You cornered me in the control room. You're the one who took my memory in the first place!'

'And then I manipulated the wraith into giving the memory charm to the green empath,' Skip said, 'it was a plan on the fly, but I'm kinda proud of it. I needed Doyle to mystically awaken my master, inside of him - that meant he had to do some kind of mojo - channel some kind of big mystical right through himself, a loophole in the whole no visions problem. And who would he be most willing to perform dark magic for? So Cordelia had to lose her memory,' he glanced at her, 'sorry sweetcheeks - nothing personal.'

Cordelia folded her arms, defensively. Her eyes were wide and offended. She was taking this personally - the assault on herself, and the much more serious one on Doyle.

'So you've been planning this for months - manoeuvring Doyle into position so that he could replace the vessel you lost,' Angel said.

'Oh, it goes a bit further back than that, amigo,' Skip told him, 'and wider, too. You got any idea how many lives have to intersect in order to pull off a major stunt like this? Like … leaving Pylea,' he looked at Lorne. Then he turned to Gunn, 'or your sister,' He turned to Fred, 'opening the wrong book.' He looked at Wesley, 'sleeping with the enemy.' He chuckled, 'Gosh - I love a story with scope.'

Gunn was shaking his head, 'nuhuh - we make our own choices.'

'A cheese sandwich here, when to floss, sure - but the big stuff - like two vampires squeezing out a kid?'

'Connor?' Angel looked puzzled, unsure as to where his infant son fit into all this.

'Sure thing - of course - in the original plan he was meant to play a bigger role in this little apocalypse than just napping upstairs in his bassinet. But he still provided us our in - in the end. One Tahvalian Ascendancy Locket later and Doyle has the power to aid with transcribing ancient prophecy… he steals the kid and boom!'

'You have your reason to take him to the other plane, infect him with the essence and then break him apart from the family - leading him to Kali.' Wesley said.

'Like I said - we had a simpler plan until…'

'The higher power messed it up,' Cordelia interrupted, her voice was impatient. 'We heard already. So - what did you do to me, huh? Apart from take my memory, what big stuff did you put in place to make sure I played my part?'

Skip stared at her long and hard - saying nothing. She stared back, trying not to blink - trying not to look worried. But, beside her, Doyle had come to an awful realisation. 'You made her fall in love with me,' he said, quietly - there was a tremble in his voice as he spoke, as he admitted, aloud, that her feelings for him had never been real - never been freely given. He should have known. No way, in this dimension or any other, would a guy like him get a girl like Cordy. 'So that I had somethin' to lose - so that I'd do all the things y' needed me to do, in order to get that thing inside o' me.' Beside him, Cordelia shifted uncomfortably.

Skip threw back his head and laughed a maniacal villain's cackle. Then he straightened up and cleared his throat, 'nah - I'm just funnin' with you. Truth is - destiny - we control that, move you all around the board like those little worthless chess pieces. But love? _That_ we don't control. Her feelings for you were always true - always her own. Truth is,' he looked Cordelia up and down, 'we didn't do anything with Cordelia, this time around. The plan worked fine without her- that was sort of the point. Sure - your feelings for her made certain factors easier to manipulate but … she was destined to meet you since before the plan was in motion. And we didn't change that. Which isn't to say we haven't had to do a lot of shifting people around - The Groosalug, for example? Mighty coincidence him turning up right now - you think? Not so much - we needed a champion, someone strong enough to protect Kalimania from the heroes whilst she was pregnant, we knew daddy wouldn't be interested in the protector role this time around, - and someone dumb enough not to ask any questions. Not our first choice - nothing here is - but he fit the spec pretty good. So - he hops a portal and here he is. And when my master rises he will be at their right hand.'

'Hang on a minute - back up,' Angel said, his frown was deeper than ever. '_When_ your master rises? It hasn't risen yet? In Kali …' he went quiet for a moment, 'the baby,' he muttered, 'the baby is your master - isn't it? The baby is made from the essence you put into Doyle - he slept with Kali, she fell pregnant and now…'

'What? The thing infecting Kali is gonna give birth - to itself?' Gunn asked.

'Circle of life - it's a beautiful thing,' Skip said.

'But - why is it manifesting as a whole new life?' Angel quizzed the demon, still thinking carefully - searching for the answer that was just out of reach. But he knew if he just kept going over the evidence he would get there in the end. 'Why not just stay inside of Kali - or Doyle for that matter, what's wrong with their bodies?'

Skip glanced up and down at Doyle, his expression mocking. 'Hey!' Cordelia yelled at him. But Angel was still thinking. 'They're mortal,' he said, 'their bodies won't last - not more than a matter of decades, and your master intends to be around a bit longer than that, am I right? It's vulnerable when it's inside a mortal body - the same way people are…' It hit him. 'And _that's_ why it had to stay hidden. Why it wiped all mention of The Beast - and itself - from this dimension. Why it erased Doyle's memory when it left him. That's why it needed to enter into a female body - it needs to create something stronger to pour itself into. Something that can't be killed so easily.'

The team all looked at each other, beginning to understand the whole scope of what they were up against. Angel had been right when he said The Beastmaster was insane - demented and deluded. This plan was sheer madness. 'So - how do we stop it?' Doyle asked, 'paternal feelings aside - how do we kick this hellspawn's ass back to the plane of existence it came from?'

'I'm ready to do some damage,' Cordelia said, grimly. Nothing was going to make this easier on Doyle, nothing would undo what had been done to him - nothing would make him better, she got that. But she still wanted to hack the monster who had violated him into tiny little pieces and give him its head on a platter. Maybe once he knew all this was over - and the thing was dead - he could begin the long, slow process of healing.

'Stopping it?' Skip said, 'that's the easy part, slick - you just gotta find Kali and chop her head off.'

Doyle shuffled awkwardly, again, 'isn't there another way?' he asked.

'Sure - stab her in the heart, kidney - couple of pokes in the lung…'

'I mean is there a way to stop this thing that doesn't require killing Kali?' Doyle said. He looked at the others, 'this isn't fair, isn't right. None of this is Kali's fault. She's not the one drivin' right now, she's not responsible for doin' all those awful things. We can't just kill her.'

But Skip was adamant, there simply was no other way. It took a whole lot of cramming to get that much sweetness inside one tiny, mortal body. When Doyle had taken in that essence, he had been warned it would change his every cell, his very DNA. It had been in every hair, every organ, every molecule of him - and then he had passed it across to Kali, and now every fibre of her being was infused with the same entity. And that entity was not going to let go until it had built itself a brand new body. The only way to stop it from rising was to attack it inside its host's body - attack Kali. Kill her - kill her child - same as every other pregnancy.

'And what will happen to Kali once this thing is born?' Fred asked, 'can we wait and…'

'Her life force will be drained during labour,' Skip interrupted. 'Those contractions are a real bitch.'

'They'll kill her?' Angel asked

'Or leave her a head of cabbage. And once my master is born - it's gonna be a whole lot harder to kill. Impossible. There's really not much point in waiting and hoping to save Kalimania, there's nothing left of her to save.'

Doyle hung his head. Wesley looked at him, 'what do you want to do?' he asked him. He knew really it should be Angel's call but … this was Doyle's child - and Doyle felt the weight of Kali's loss - the guilt of what had been done to her. In this one situation - maybe it was the Irishman who should decide.

'This is my fault,' Doyle said quietly. 'I took that essence into me - willingly - Skip's not lyin', he warned me - told me I'd live to regret it.'

'He was the one who tricked you into being there in the first place,' Cordelia told him, 'and left you with no choice but to take it.' But Doyle shook his head, 'you always have a choice,' he said, 'it's just sometimes you don't have a good choice. And now - Kali's gonna die, one way or the other - and the whole world is sufferin' 'cause of my idiocy.'

'And you still have a choice,' Angel told him, 'not a good one - but a choice. Do you want us to kill Kali - and bear the weight of the death of an innocent, or wait until the baby is born - and suffer the consequences?'

Doyle looked up - looked Angel in the eye. They both knew what the right answer was. He turned to Skip, 'how do we find her?' he asked. Skip didn't say anything - and Angel stepped closer towards the circle of sand, menacingly. 'Answer him,' he said.

Skip sighed, 'well I'd go with the Bu'shundi ritual but - uh - you're gonna need a sacred Hutamin paw for that.'

'Got it!' Lorne said, triumphantly - and headed behind the counter. 'Cordelia keeps one in her desk.'

Cordelia twisted around to look at him, her face puzzled. 'I do?'

He came back round holding a long stick with a small, furry paw fixed to the top. It had it's index finger stretched out - as if it were pointing. Cordy looked even more surprised. 'My backscratcher?' she said, 'is a mystical whosit?'

'Get started,' Angel said - and Lorne and Wesley took the sacred paw off, and went to research the ritual. Skip twisted his body - looking after them as they left - unable to follow because of the circle of sand. 'Did I say Bu'shundi?' he yelled, 'I meant 'I meant Ru'shundi - it's a whole different...' But they weren't listening - and had disappeared from view. He turned back to the others. 'Crap.'

* * *

'How are you doing?' Cordelia opened the door to the courtyard and stepped outside. Doyle was sat out there, again, staring up at the moon. He turned to look at her, 'I guess maybe I'll feel better once we've got a location,' he told her. 'Once there's somethin' I can do to stop all this … for about 90 seconds before it hits me that I've had to kill yet another person because of this thing I let crawl inside of me.'

She sat down next to him. 'You know - I guess it turns out I only knew Kali for a short time, the real Kali anyway,' she said. 'But - what I did know of her, she seemed like a good person - decent and honest - and completely in love with you,' she nudged him with her shoulder and smiled at him, 'so she must have had good taste, if nothing else … and, I think, given the options we're facing - she'd tell you to kill her. If what Skip says is true, the future isn't rosy for her, one way or the other - she might as well die a couple of days earlier and save the whole world from bloodshed and torment. I think she'd see that.'

Doyle sighed - and looked up at the sky, once again. There were no stars. There were never any stars in L.A, too much light pollution. He missed the stars from back home - but it was one of the trade offs, he supposed, the heat for the stars. There was always a trade off - you never got the full package. 'I guess maybe you're right,' he said, 'maybe she would get that … but it doesn't change the fact that it's all my fault that she's in this situation in the first place.'

Cordelia turned and stared at him, gazing at his profile. She stared at him for so long that eventually he turned his head to look at her. 'What?' he asked.

'You really are a piece of work, you know that?' she said.

'Uh…' he wasn't sure what to say.

'Did you hear yourself in there?' she asked him, pointing towards the lobby. 'Talking about Kali - how none of this is her fault, the things she's done, the things she has caused to happen - because it's not her in the driving seat, right now? And yet … when it comes to you being in the exact same situation - it's all '_I'm so broody, I'm so tortured, no one has ever caused as much evil as me'._ What's with that?'

He actually chuckled a little bit at her impression of him - and that made her smile, her beautiful, thousand kilowatt smile lighting up her face. 'I'm not as much an innocent in all this as Kali,' he said to her, ' I agreed to take that thing inside of me. She didn't. That's why it's different.'

'Hey - I remember your birthday,' she told him. 'You woke up with a cactus face full of hedgehog spikes and they wouldn't come off. You were powerfreaked. _I_ was powerfreaked. And then - what? - Skip turns up, tells you he's come from the PTB and he can fix you - and you're somehow not an innocent in all this because you bit his arm off, taking up the offer? You hate your demon face, Doyle, you could never have lived stuck like that - they picked your weakness and used it against you to manipulate you into doing exactly what they wanted. But that _does not_ make _you _the guilty party.'

'Well, then maybe I should have come to terms with my demon face better.'

She slapped him round the back of the head.

'Ow! What was that for?'

'For being determined to make this all your fault - when it isn't. Not even a little bit. You have a lot to deal with, Doyle. Big stuff. Trauma. You have every right to be freaking out - to be curled up in a little ball somewhere, weeping like a baby man. All that's fine - and I'll hold your hand through it all. But sitting around playing the blame game? Finding every which way you can to make this your fault and hate yourself just that little bit more? Nope - no way - not taking part in that pity party. And if you're hating on yourself to avoid your real feelings … then that isn't going to end well. You need to let this stuff out.'

'Maybe I need to wait until the apocalypse is averted before I - uh - curl up in a little ball and weep like a baby man?' He smiled at her, gently.

Cordelia laughed. She rested her hand on his shoulder and then rested her chin on top of that. 'I guess maybe you owe it to Kali to hold it together long enough to cut her head off. But as soon as that's over and done with - you need to go through whatever you need to go through, no deflecting it with guilt. And no drowning it in scotch. And you need to let me know whatever it is you need me to do to be there for you - whether that means really being here, or giving you space. Whatever. I'm here for you. Even if you want me to be here for you by being away from you.'

'I never want you to be away from me.'

She smiled again, 'well that's sorted then.' She snuggled a little bit closer. Doyle turned back - once again staring at the pale disc of the moon. 'This reminds me o' that time I got attacked by my own visions,' he said to her, 'me lurkin' out here - too ashamed to face everyone else - only lettin' you near me.' He sighed, 'O'course we were still together then - you still loved me. I hadn't managed to destroy everythin' … repeatedly. Before I went and got another woman pregnant.'

Cordelia pulled back from him a little bit, 'Doyle…' she was frowning, but he carried on talking. Not listening to her. 'Lorne just read me that time,' he said, 'figured out that it wasn't really The Powers and solved the whole problem. Why couldn't he just do that this time?' he muttered the last part a little bitterly.

'Well, I think this uber evil is a little bit more powerful than _Lilah Morgan_,' Cordelia replied, 'hell - it had hell bitch, herself, on the run and living in the sewer. It's not Lorne's fault it was better at hiding … and anyway - his empath abilities have been all screwy lately. He said it himself.'

'Yeah … why is that?'

'I dunno.'

'You think I did something to him? - to stop him readin' me, when I was evil - I mean.'

'Maybe - or maybe Kali did. His wires got crossed when he thought Angelus had got his soul back - maybe she did a spell to confuse him. She needed us to let Angelus out of the cage, she needed Lorne to get the reading wrong. Plus she wouldn't want him picking up on her pregnancy.'

Doyle thought for a moment. 'She was the one who found the spell to give Angel his soul back,' he said, 'remember - she just _took it upon herself_ to start researchin' - and just _happened_ to find the right book. The spell was a bust - and then suddenly the book was blank.'

'She planted the spell to trick us into releasing Angelus - and then erased it again,' Cordelia realised, 'like your memory - and Angel's, and every trace of The Beast.'

'She's powerful,' Doyle said, 'really powerful. We need to stop her.'

'Then maybe we should go back inside and see if Lorne and Wes have had any luck finding her yet?' They got to their feet - and headed back into the lobby.

* * *

Fred and Gunn were sat on the staircase - there was nothing to do but wait, until the more mystically inclined members of their team came back with an answer. Fred turned, as she heard the door open, and watched Doyle and Cordelia walk back inside - and head over to the counter - to where Angel was waiting. 'How do you think he's holding up?' she asked Gunn.

The street fighter looked across at the small group. 'Irish? - he's keepin' it together. He'll keep it together until the job's done. After that …'

'He'll do whatever they want him to,' Fred said - her voice a little bitter, 'the same as the rest of us. We'll all just do whatever The Powers decide - and none of it will make a difference, because we're just little pieces being moved around the board.'

'Then we'll kick it over and start a new game,' Gunn said. 'Look, monochrome can yap all he wants about no-name's cosmic plan, but here's a little something I picked up rubbing mojos these past couple of years. The final score can't be rigged. I don't care how many players you grease, that last shot always comes up a question mark. But here's the thing—you never know when you're taking it. It could be when you're duking it out with the Legion of Doom, or just crossing the street deciding where to have brunch. So you just treat it all like it was up to you—the world in the balance—'cause you never know when it is.'

Fred looked up at him, 'you been practicing that?'

He chuckled 'Little bit.'

...

Lorne and Wesley came out of the office, then - a singed map held in the demon's hand and a smile on his face. 'Hug your neighbour, kiddies we got it.'

Trapped in his cylinder of light, Skip tried one last time to put them off, 'you're all puppets,' he scoffed. Wesley just gave him an irritated glance, 'shut up.'

Fred scrambled to her feet and came down the stairs, 'where is she?' she asked.

Lorne shook the map out so it was straight, 'well, according to the scorch marks, Downtown, meat packing district.'

'Good work,' Angel took the map from Lorne and looked at it - seeing the exact location. Then he turned and showed it to Doyle. They looked at each other, making eye contact, seeming to understand something - though neither of them spoke.

'Let's load up,' Gunn said, headed for the weapons cabinet. But Angel stopped him, 'no,' he said, 'you're not coming - any of you. This is for me and Doyle. The rest of you … stay here.'

'Angel - we wanna help,' Cordelia protested, 'we need to help - you can't do this without us.'

Doyle took a deep breath and turned to face her. 'I need to do this alone,' he told her. 'I infected Kali with that thing. That thing inside of her is my child. Now I got to go murder an innocent woman to stop my uber evil kid from endin' the world - I don't want any of you there. You shouldn't have to carry that and …' he shuffled his feet and looked down, 'I don't want you to see me have to do it.'

'So why does Angel get to go?' Gunn asked.

''Cause I can kill Kali, but I can't do that _and_ fight the Groosalug. Angel takes out Groo - without killin' him, he's an innocent too. And I kill Kali and put a stop to what I started.'

'And the rest of you sit tight,' Angel said. Cordelia nodded. She handed Angel his broad sword and Doyle an axe. 'Be careful,' she said to them both - and then they left, and she went to go and sit by the counter.

'The two noble heroes,' Skip sneered.

'shut it,' Cordelia snapped at him.

'What's with that, man?' Gunn asked the team, 'benchin' us like that? We all know the score - why can't we be back up?'

'I guess he doesn't want us to watch him kill Kali, when he blames himself,' Fred said.

'She's pregnant with the uber evil - man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.'

'He's afraid,' Cordelia said, 'Of Kali - of that thing inside of her. It was inside of him - and he doesn't know where that leaves him, what it's done to him. He's afraid he isn't the same person he was before. He doesn't know if things can go back the way they were - and he won't know until he kills Kali and her baby - stops all this. He doesn't want us there watching, when he finds out if he's still the man he thought he was - or if he's different now. He needs to find out on his own terms.'

The team all looked down, awkward and uncomfortable. 'And that child inside Kali - even if it is hellspawn - it's his child.' Lorne said, softly, 'and there won't ever be another for Doyle. That's got to weigh heavy on his heart.'

'So how come Angel gets to witness this moment?' Gunn asked.

Wesley looked at the door the two men had just walked through - remembering a night - long ago. With another apocalypse looming. Another miracle child carried within a demon. 'Angel already knows what it is to have to murder the mother of your own child,' he said, heavily.

* * *

Kali opened her eyes - her chanting finished. She could feel the baby quickening inside of her - turning - readying itself. She got to her feet and walked to the next room, where the Groosalug and their victim was. The girl was still tied up. 'It's time,' Kali said, her eyes were shining and she was smiling and breathless. This was a moment aeons in the making - and her blood pounded through her veins, coursing through her - making her skin tingle. She had never felt so alive as at this moment - when she was about to bring forth new life. 'Bring her into the next room,' she commanded.

The Groosalug walked towards her. 'I am troubled, Lady. This girl - this child - she is an innocent. I am a champion. My life is sworn in service of protecting the innocent. Perhaps we should let her go.'

'No we shouldn't. We need her. My baby needs her - to be born - to change the world. One sacrifice, of someone so small and insignificant - to bring forth such glory as the world has never seen. Surely you can see that balances the scales? More than balances them.'

'I do not trust that any good can come from harming an innocent. Your child will be born from an act of evil.'

'And from that will do so much good - sweet boy,' she reached up and stroked his face, 'what did I tell you? When you cannot trust your own judgement, then trust mine.'

'You have been wrong before, Lady,' he smiled at her sweetly, apologetically. Her face hardened. 'Fine,' she said, 'if even you will not help me - then I'll do it myself.' She pushed past the Groosalug and grabbed hold of the girl. The girl screamed - as Kali dragged her away to be sacrificed.


	68. Inside Out: Part Four

_Part Four_

'Please don't do this,' the girl begged - staring up at Kali, weeping. She had been dragged inside the circle of candles - and Kali held an axe ready. The Groosalug watched on - his handsome face was conflicted. He wanted to protect the innocent girl, but he had promised to protect Kali - promised to do whatever it took to help her bring her miracle child into the world - the King's child. 'My Lady,' he said, his voice was hesitant, 'maybe we should…'

But Kali swung her axe - one sharp blow at the young girl's head. Blood spattered across Kali's face and chest - and the girl's body slumped down in the middle of the circle. 'There,' Kali said, glaring at the Groosalug, 'that wasn't so hard now - was it?'

The Groosalug stared back.

* * *

The Plymouth sped towards the meatpacking district. Angel was driving, zipping in and out of the lanes of traffic, trying to get to Kali and Groo before they moved on … or before Doyle changed his mind. The silence in the car weighed heavy upon them. Doyle was staring straight ahead out of the windshield, seemingly paying no attention to the city around them. After what felt like forever, Angel decided to break the silence.

'Look, Doyle…' he said awkwardly, glancing at the half demon beside him, before turning his eyes back to the road ahead, 'I know this situation is different - no two situations are ever really the same but … I just want you to know…' he glanced back at Doyle again, the Irishman was still staring fixedly ahead. 'I know what it's like - to have to go out and kill the mother of your child. Remember when Darla turned up pregnant? - You had the vision of her at the arcade - and I went there ready to drive a stake through her heart rather than let something evil be born.' He sighed, 'I guess what I'm saying is … I know what it's like to have to try and kill your own child - when you know there won't ever be another for you.'

There was a long pause. Doyle continued to stare out of the windshield - and Angel frowned, wondering whether he had even heard him. But eventually, Doyle spoke. 'Your child was human,' he said, flatly, still not looking around.

Angel glanced at him, 'and I really don't think yours is. And I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry this isn't going to end for you the way it ended for me and Connor. I was lucky - I never had to go through with it. But this part - driving out to murder your own child - I've been there, I understand what you're going through.'

Doyle sighed, deeply. 'I guess you do,' he said. Silence fell over them once more. The Irishman hadn't turned - hadn't looked at Angel - the whole exchange.

* * *

Cordelia had gone upstairs to check on Connor. The baby was still sleeping, peacefully - unaware of all the drama that was taking place several storeys below, in the lobby. 'Hey munchkin,' she reached out and tickled his tiny foot, 'sweet dreams, sleepyhead.'

'How's he doing?' Lorne asked - turning up in the doorway, behind her. She turned and smiled, 'oh - he's fine, got no idea what he's missing, downstairs.'

'Lucky him - huh - the whole world could end and the cherubin would sleep right through it.'

'Yeah - lucky him.'

Lorne tilted his head to one side and smiled at her, sympathetically. 'And how are you doing, bubchen?'

'Me?' She gave him her brightest smile, 'I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?'

He gave her a look- that told her he saw right through her. 'My empath abilities might be all screwy at the moment, but I'm not blind,' he said, kindly. 'This motherload of big bad just keeps getting bigger and badder - and it's hitting our little Irish Prince twice as hard as it's hitting anyone else. At least twice. And everything that hurts him, you feel like a knife twisting in your own heart.'

'Well - I don't know about that,' she laughed, uncomfortably, 'that sounds a little dramatic.'

'Aw - sugar, you know it and I know it to be true. He's hurting - and you're trying to be brave - do the heavy lifting for him, be the shoulder he needs to cry on. But - whilst we all wring our hands and try to give Doyle space or support or whatever he needs - no one ever stops to ask what the person holding him up needs to help keep themselves standing. You're taking all this on your young shoulders - and that is a burden too heavy for any but those with superstrength to bear. So tell me, Cordelia, what do you need?'

'I … I'm fine, really, I just want things to be better for Doyle. Once the evil is squished … then he'll work through whatever he needs to work through and I'll - do whatever it takes to make him right.'

Lorne smiled at her - a little sad, but a little proud, as well. 'You really do got those superhero chops, Cordelia,' he said to her.

'Well - _duh!'_

'Doyle's a lucky man to have you.'

'Well, that statement goes entirely without saying!'

Lorne laughed, 'you know it's funny - this time last year, I had my full empath mojo working for me and I'm going round thinking you belong with Angel. Now - Little Miss Hellspawn has whacked my power and I can see more clearly than ever that you were only ever meant to be with Doyle.'

Cordelia bit her lip to try and stop herself from smiling, and looked down at her feet. 'I think we all got that wrong - though chicken little didn't help matters any; telling lies and stealing babies.'

'Mistakes were made,' Lorne nodded - but then he grinned, 'but what's done is done and, Cara Mia, I don't have to be able to see your aura to tell you it is _singing_. You're on your right path now - and I don't see anything ever knocking you off that yellow brick road again.'

'Maybe you're getting your power back,' Cordelia suggested, 'maybe hell bitch's spell wasn't permanent.'

'Maybe - or maybe you're just lit up like the Fourth of July now you know what you want.'

'Yeah - it only took me a year to work out it was the same thing I always wanted.'

'If you ever go looking for your heart's desire again - then don't look any further than your own backyard,' he said to her.

'Because if it isn't there - I never really lost it to begin with.'

'There's no place like home, Cara Mia,' he smiled at her, 'there's no place like home.'

* * *

Angel sighed. The silence was oppressive - and Doyle … Angel was really worrying about Doyle. He was taking everything so hard, taking so much blame on himself - when it wasn't his fault, not really. But he wasn't ready to hear that - and trying to bond over the shared burden of parental infanticide had been a bust. There needed to be something else they could talk about - something to try and bring Doyle out of his shell. Angel cast his mind around - thinking and rejecting topics. Not sports - Doyle wasn't interested in sports - and anyway, it was far too lighthearted. That was a stupid idea. He could ask if Doyle had been to the movies recently but … Doyle wouldn't even remember. It would just lead him back to thinking about his memory loss - and possession. Besides, this unnamed evil was unlikely to have taken time out of the apocalypse to take in the latest Lord of the Rings movie. This was awkward - he tapped his hands on the wheel awkwardly - and glanced at Doyle out of the corner of his eye. He wished Cordy was here - she'd know what to … well, that was a conversation they could have. If things were this awkward anyway - might as well go for gold.

'Hey … Doyle?' he said - his voice hesitant and, well, awkward.

'Huh?' Doyle was still staring straight ahead, not really listening.

'I just wanted to say - I wanted to tell you … I know what happened. Between you and Cordy. When I was Angelus, I mean. I know your relationship … moved forward,' he frowned, 'or backwards, I guess.'

Doyle had finally turned and was looking at him. 'What do you know?' he asked, he was frowning, as well.

'Cordelia spoke to me, earlier. She's … we're not - we're not an item anymore.' He took a deep, oxygenless breath and forced himself to say it. 'She made her choice.'

But Doyle just shook his head, 'no,' he said, 'that was before… that was before Kali came downstairs, pregnant. Before she found out I'd slept with Kali.' Her gave a dark chuckle, 'she pulled away after that. Once she found out how badly I'd screwed up. Again.'

'Actually - not,' Angel corrected him. 'We had this conversation after Kali had dropped her bombshell. Cordelia really has made her choice. She chooses you.' He looked over at Doyle, 'the better man won.'

Doyle stared at him for a long time. 'You think I'm the better man?' he asked, suspiciously.

'Well,' Angel wriggled uncomfortably, 'better for Cordelia, at least. Not better at everything. I mean - I'm better at killing stuff. And I'm definitely a better dresser.'

Doyle actually chuckled, 'thanks, man.'

'I was kidding myself that I could be with a human woman,' Angel told him, 'you'd think I'd learn my lesson - but I really didn't. As long as I'm a vampire, cursed with a soul, I can't give Cordelia what she needs - what she wants. And what she wants is you.'

'And you're OK with that?'

'I don't get a choice. I get that now. You told me that, remember - back when I was in the cage. You were right. It's Cordelia's decision.'

There was another moment of silence. Doyle nodded quietly and went back to staring out of the windshield. Angel took another, air-free breath, 'look, Doyle, I just wanted to say … I'm sorry I tried to get in the way of you and Cordy last year.' Doyle turned to look at him, again - looking even more surprised. 'You are?'

'Yeah - and I don't just mean because things didn't work out the way I hoped. I'm sorry I tried to make her love me instead of you - there was no need for that. It was selfish. I wasn't being a good friend to you. And you're … you're my best friend, Doyle. You're the first real friend I ever had. I should have valued that more - and I didn't - and I'm sorry. But now … you have Cordy back - and I have Connor back - and … can we just forget the whole thing ever happened? When this apocalypse is over - can we just go back to the way things were … before we both screwed up?'

'Yeah,' Doyle nodded. A small, half smile was playing on his face. 'Yeah - I'd like that.'

He went back to staring out of the windshield. But this time the silence did not lie half as heavy between them.

* * *

The dead girl had been dragged back outside of the sacred circle - she lay on the floor, her eyes blank and glassy, in a pool of her own blood. Groo could not take his eyes off her. But Kali had been busy. She had lain bedding down in the circle and was now, herself, lying on top of it. She was groaning, as she felt the pains shoot through her abdomen. It was time. 'Groo, we have to do this.' She writhed in agony, as a contraction hit her, 'while it's still fresh.' She writhed again, grunting as the fresh wave of pain broke against her.

Reluctantly, Groo knelt down and placed his hand, palm down, in the pool of blood. Then he stood up and walked toward Kalimania. She was still rolling on the floor, in agony - chanting her strange words, again. 'Vanu'esh. Katahn darh'im. Vajra'ha'esh.' Another contraction seized hold of her and she squirmed with the pain - but she kept on chanting, though her voice was weaker. 'Vanu'esh... Katahn... darh'im.'

She opened her eyes and saw the Groosalug standing over her, the blood dripping from his hand. She rolled up her blouse, exposing her swollen belly to him. 'Do it Groo,' she panted, 'do it now … do it now.'

He crouched down beside her and pressed his bloody palm against her belly. It glowed against her skin - scarlet against lilac - for the briefest moment, and then it faded away. Kali screamed - and the building began to shake and rattle.

* * *

Upstairs in the Hyperion, the floor beneath their feet shook - and chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling. Lorne and Cordy stared at each other in alarm. 'Sweet mother of mercy, what's happening?' Lorne asked.

'Stay with Connor,' Cordy told him - 'make sure he's OK,' and then she turned and ran out of the room, headed for the lobby.

* * *

Down in the lobby, Fred looked up in alarm, as she felt the ground quake beneath her feet. The chandelier rattled and the lights flickered. Like it had upstairs, plaster began to shake loose, and fall as debris to the floor. Fred lost her balance and fell to the ground. Gunn cried out in alarm - but a moment later, he and Wesley had lost their footing, too.

'What's happening?' Fred yelled across to them.

In the middle of the room - a hunk of rubble crashed to the ground - right over the circle of sand. The circle was broken - and Skip stepped outside of its bounds. 'End of the world, cupcake,' he said to Fred, walking towards her, 'for you.'

* * *

Groo knelt beside Kali, unsure of what to do. She was screaming in pain, rolling on the floor - unable to take the onslaught of punishment labour was wreaking on her body. He had not realised it would be like this - when he had promised to help her, sworn to protect her. How could he protect her from the agony inside her own womb? 'My lady,' he whispered to her, 'something must be wrong. We should stop this.'

'No,' she breathed, 'it's coming!' She laughed - even in her agony; a frightening, gasping, manic laugh which made her sound deranged. 'The beginning of a new world!'

'Or not.'

The Groosalug turned. The vantal, Angel, and His Majesty were stood in the doorway - weapons raised. They had come to stop this. They had come to kill Kalimania and the child, just like she said they would. Groo got to his feet and faced them.

* * *

Skip picked Gunn up by the shirt front and hurled him across the room. Fred and Wesley were already down, bleeding. 'What a bunch of pantywaists,' the demon said. He turned to walk away from them - and Wesley scrambled to his feet and tried to hit him round the back of the head with a battle axe. But the blade just bounced off Skip's body armour - and the demon turned back to look at them. 'If you can't stop little old Skipper, you really think you got a chance against that?' He held up a finger to indicate the earthquake which shook the building, heralding the birth of the true Beastmaster.

* * *

'Groo - I don't wanna fight you,' Angel said - edging towards him, his sword raised. Doyle stayed behind him. He was waiting for his moment, Once the undefeated champion was engaged in battle, he would destroy the woman on the floor - the woman who was giving birth to his child. 'You're a good man,' Angel was saying, 'a champion. She's been lying to you.'

'Don't listen to him,' Kali panted. 'They can't be trusted.'

'She's the one who can't be trusted,' Angel said - keeping his voice low and calm. 'That's not the real Kalimania. That's something inside of her; twisting her, controlling her. It's killing her, Groo - to bring itself into being.'

'She has already told me that you do not know good from evil. That you lie,' the Groosalug said. Though he did not look convinced.

'She's been lying. To all of us. She's made you do things, hasn't she Groo - things you don't wanna do?' His eyes strayed across the room - and found the body of the girl. 'She make you do that, Groo?'

The Groosalug glanced between the dead body and Angel, looking more and more conflicted.

'Just kill them!' Kali yelled out from the floor. 'Kill them both, Groo! Before they kill me. You promised!' And the Groosalug gripped his own sword and - with a snarl - launched himself towards Angel.

* * *

Wesley flew across the room - from another backhander from Skip. He landed heavily on the floor. Gunn was still scrambling back to his feet - his head was cut where it had smacked against the wall, and the blood was dripping into his eyes.

Cordelia reached the bottom of the stairs - and looked around, seeing the battered, crumpled bodies of her friends', and Skip - freed from the circle - reigning down as much destruction as the earthquake. 'Oh my gosh,' she breathed - her eyes growing wide.

Skip turned on her. 'You,' he said, menacingly. He walked towards her and then seized her by the throat. He lifted her from the ground, and she grabbed his wrist - trying to free herself. 'This is all your fault,' he said to her, as she struggled in his grip. 'Do you have any idea the damage control my master and I have had to do to fix your meddling? Any idea of the aeons we laid in wait - for you to change _everything_ on a whim? Because you didn't like what destiny served you?' He looked her up and down and laughed, 'oh but just you wait, sweetcheeks, because destiny isn't finished with you yet. You should have taken what we offered you - because you _will not_ like what's coming for you next.' Then he threw her away. She smashed down on the staircase, cracking her back against the marble edge of the steps and wincing in pain. She took deep, gasping breaths - and slowly her skin returned from purple to white.

By the time she had recovered - Skip had advanced on Fred. Like he had done with Cordelia, he picked her up by the neck and held her up off the floor. 'What was it you were saying before?' he asked her, 'something about infinite agony? Hmmm?'

Gunn had grabbed a sword and launched himself at the back of the demon - swinging his blade in an attempt to make him let go of Fred. But he couldn't penetrate the bronze exoskeleton. Skip turned and looked at him impatiently. He dropped Fred to the floor - who, like Cordelia had done, took long, gasping breaths - and smacked Gunn to the ground. 'Do you mind?' he asked. 'I'm trying to work here.'

Wesley had grabbed his handgun and now he took aim at the demon - firing off round after round. Skip didn't even bother trying to dodge the bullets. Instead he stood still and let his body armour deflect them. They ricocheted off him, in every direction, and the rest of the team took cover - cowering from the hail of bouncing bullets. Wesley dropped his gun, realising it was useless - realising he was endangering his friends. 'Do those things ever work?' Skip asked him, mockingly.

He turned back to Fred - and that's when Wesley saw it: a gap in the armour. It was the wound Angel had inflicted when he used the chain to rip the large spur from Skip's neck. The watcher rolled across the ground, grabbing his gun once more and - when he straightened up - he aimed straight for the point of vulnerability.

His aim was true. The bullet lodged right in the weak spot and then travelled deeper into the head of the demon. Skip stopped. His eyes glazed. 'Well … that aint right,' he slurred - and then he collapsed, landing heavily on the floor, beside Fred.

* * *

The blades of the two champions whipped through the air - crashing together. They held them in place - straining against each other - but then the Groosalug knocked Angel to the side. Angel stumbled but then swung his fist at Groo. 'I don't wanna fight you,' he yelled, punching him again, 'we have to stop her - we have no choice.'

Kali's body was writhing and bucking, now, the contractions held her totally in their grip and she was screaming in pain. As Angel and Groo fought one another, Doyle hefted his own axe and ran towards the agonised woman. He came to a stop just short of the sacred circle. 'I am so sorry, darlin',' he said, swinging his axe downwards. But then, Kali gave out one final, piercing howl and a bright greenish white column of light burst forth from her body. Doyle was knocked off his feet, thrown backwards. He hit his head on the concrete floor and - just before he passed out - glimpsed the impression of something moving within the light - something with too many limbs - tentacles, like an octopus. Then he closed his eyes and gave in to unconsciousness.

Groo and Angel had been forced off their feet, as well, by the light, which had grown more intense - changing colours in a prismatic sunburst display. They raised their arms to shield their eyes and then - when they could stand the brightness no longer - it began to retract; dying away, growing dimmer. As the light dampened down to nothing - the shape within began to change form, growing more and more humanoid… until finally there was nothing but a fully grown woman standing before them.

Angel got to his feet, sword raised - and ran at her - yelling. She didn't move. She only smiled. And he faltered. Then he stared. And then he slowly lowered himself to his knee, gazing up at her. 'You're beautiful,' he whispered. Behind him, the Groosalug had also dropped to his knee, his head was bowed and he held his sword out, as if swearing fealty. 'My true Lady,' he breathed, 'my weapon - my life - is yours.'

Groaning, Doyle opened his eyes again. The light had gone - the place was in darkness again. He squinted - Angel and Groo were now on their knees, bowing towards a figure. He frowned and pushed himself up to get a better look at what was going on. His mouth dropped open. It was a rotting carcass, standing there - in front of Angel. Maggots were living in its face, crawling through its skin. Decayed and diseased and disgusting; It was the most complete evil Doyle had ever seen. A rotting nightmare of putrefied flesh, which left him sick with fear and visceral disgust. The monster was looking down at the two champions. 'Groo,' it said, from it's stinking, festering maw: 'Angel…'

Doyle began to scream.

* * *

**A/N The next episode is 'Shiny Happy People'.**


	69. Shiny Happy People: Part One

**Shiny Happy People**

_Part One_

Angel and Groo were still kneeling on the floor - gazing up at that... _thing_ with a look of awe and reverence on their faces. Doyle tore his eyes away from the putrid horror, afraid it might come at him when his back was turned but unable to look at it's rotting, decaying, sickening travesty of a face any longer. He looked at Angel, 'Angel, man - what's wrong with y'? Can't y' see it - Angel?' But the vampire - and the undefeated champion beside him - did not look away from the monstrosity. He was going to have to deal with this himself. He grabbed his battle axe, morphed into his demon face for added strength - and then charged at the maggot infested abomination - yelling as he ran.

'Stop him,' he heard the creature say from out of it's stinking mouth and - a moment later - he knew nothing but blackness, As Angel stood up, snapped his neck - and then dropped him to the floor.

...

Angel dropped back to his knee and gazed up at the woman. She was … divine. Her beauty was so perfect it made his unbeating heart swell - and feel like it must burst for joy. If there was a God - then surely she must be it. A goddess. A flawless deity of unimaginable goodness. She smiled down at him, 'thank you,' she said. Even her voice was like music to his ears, pure notes of indescribable, heartbreaking beauty. She looked around the darkened warehouse, 'oh it's all so…'

'Unworthy?' Angel asked, cursing himself that someone so perfect could have been brought into being in a place so low. But the woman shook her head - and her perfect smile grew wider. 'Wonderful,' she told him, in her soft voice. She crossed over to the circle where Kali was lying - unconscious - and picked up the bedding, wrapping it around her sublime body, covering the acres of her bare, flawless skin. Then she knelt beside the unconscious demon woman. 'Kalimania, thank you for protecting me and nourishing me. Your spirit has been my shelter. But you can rest peacefully now. I'm here.'

'That is all she ever wanted, My True Lady,' the Groosalug said to her, ducking his head as he addressed her, too reverent to speak directly to her. 'To give you life. It meant a great deal to her.'

'And I can feel it all,' she told him, 'the cold floor, the air,' she got to her feet and ran her fingertips down her golden-brown skin, 'this skin. Everything is perfect.'

But Angel shook his head, 'no it's not,' he said to her. It should be - but now he remembered - and he was choking on his remorse, unable to bear it. 'I came here to kill you,' he held his sword out to her, 'I should be punished.'

She took the sword from him. 'Angel, I can feel your suffering.' She raised the blade high in the air - pointed and ready to strike. 'But now your suffering is going to end.'

Angel hung his head, waiting for the fall of the sword - for his own execution. But it never came. He looked up - confused - but the woman was no longer there. She had vanished.

* * *

In the lobby of the Hyperion, Lorne, Cordelia and Fred worked quietly - clearing up the hunks of rubble and debris left over from the earlier earthquake. From down in the basement came the distant sound of a buzz saw - as Wes and Gunn worked together to dismember the dead body of Skip, not wanting to leave it to chance that he may wake up again.

'Do you think they got there in time?' Fred asked - as she swept up the sand and plaster which littered the floor. 'Do you think they found them?'

'If that monkey's paw hoodoo worked the way it was supposed to, they should have been led straight to 'em,' Lorne said.

'And what then?'

'Angel's more than match enough for the Groosalug,' Cordelia said, confidently. She straightened up and dusted herself down, 'and Doyle can take Kali.' She frowned, 'I mean - physically, obviously he can. I'm sure he wouldn't chicken out in the end. He needs to do it to save the world.' She gave the others her brightest smile. 'They'll both be back soon - evil thing squished - you'll see. And then we can get back to everyday unspeakable horror and bloodshed.'

'Poor Kali - though,' Fred said, quietly, taking the contents of her dustpan to the trash and tipping it in, 'she really was an innocent in all this. And she's had to die.'

The smile on Cordelia's face slid off, 'yeah … that part kinda sucks.'

'There's no easy answers when you're the champion,' Lorne said to them both. 'Difficult decisions come with the territory - and then bearing the burden of them. 'Cause one thing's for sure: this cockamamy universe of ours aint fair - and isn't ever likely to be.'

'Pain, suffering, evil pregnancies,' Fred listed, 'and that's just for ...Hey!' she suddenly ran out from behind the counter, grabbing a small dagger as she went. Cordelia and Lorne frowned at each other and then followed her, wondering what had happened.

Fred had spotted the Groosalug walking through the lobby - and had run out to confront him. 'What do you think you're doing here?' she demanded. He smiled at her wide and foolish. He held Kalimania in his arms - the demon woman was unconscious. He laid her down on the couch, carefully. 'We are returning to you,' he said to the three of them, calmly.

'Returning to us?' Cordelia asked.

'It's OK guys, he's with me.' They all turned to look at Angel, standing in the doorway. He was carrying Doyle - who also appeared to be unconscious - and cactus face. 'Oh my goodness! What happened to him?' Cordelia hurried over, forgetting the demon woman and her undefeated champion - and immediately began fussing over the limp and lifeless body of her boyfriend. Angel lowered him to the ground - and Cordy put his head in her lap, noting the odd angle of his neck - indicating it had been broken … again.

'He tried to kill her,' Angel explained.

'And she broke his neck? What happened? What about Kali - she's not…'

'She's not dead,' Angel told them all, 'she's just resting. She's in a peaceful place.'

The basement door opened and Wesley and Gunn, wearing overalls and stained with Skip's blood, came hurrying into the lobby - wanting to know what was going on. Fred was staring at Kali, 'she's not pregnant anymore,' she pointed out.

'You were too late?' Wesley surmised, 'the thing was born.'

'And it broke Doyle's neck!' Cordelia voice was somewhere between upset and pissed.

'So … not a chubby little cherub, huh?' Lorne asked.

'Not exactly, no,' Angel replied. His eyes glazed over and his smile became wistful.

'But you killed it?' Gunn checked, 'it's dead, right?'

'It'd better be,' Cordelia muttered, stroking Doyle's hair.

'I - I tried.' Angel backed away from the group, hanging his head. He sat down on the steps. 'I was going to - I just…' he put his head in his hands and began to weep.

'What's his trip?' Cordelia asked, looking annoyed.

'Angel, my friend, you must stop torturing yourself. You must forgive yourself.' The Groosalug looked at the others, 'he was like this all the way back, in the car.'

'It escaped then?' Wesley asked.

'More like disappeared,' Angel told him - his face still buried in his hands. 'Didn't even say goodbye.'

'So - what are we dealing with?' Gunn asked. The team tried to work out what manner of creature they were facing: eight legged? Three headed? Horned? Lorne looked offended at the last guess. 'Two legs, one head, no horns,' the Groosalug told them.

'And what colour?' Lorne asked, 'lemme guess? Green?'

'No,' Angel got back to his feet - he was smiling again, now, 'sort of … mocha.' The others looked at each other, confused - but Angel didn't notice. 'We need to find her.'

'Agreed.' Wesley led the others over to the weapons cabinet. But Angel and Groo stayed where they were - along with Cordelia, who was still tending to the unconscious Doyle. 'I hope this thing's easier to kill than The Beast,' Gunn was muttering. The Groosalug looked alarmed and followed him, 'no, my friend, there must be no killing.'

'Since when?'

'Since we've all been saved,' Angel told them. Down on the ground, Doyle's red eyes flashed open. He sat up and snapped his neck back in place - then shook off his spikes. Cordelia reached out and stroked his face, drawing him in for a kiss. 'You OK?' she asked, when they broke apart. He looked like he'd just had a tonne of bricks dropped him. He shook his head. 'We're kissin' again?' She grinned.

Over by the weapons cabinet, the gang were becoming increasingly disturbed by Angel's and Groo's behaviour. 'OK … that's crazy talk,' Fred said, nervously.

'They don't understand,' Angel said to Groo - as if he were a little sad for his friends. He turned back to them, 'we don't want to kill her.' he took the axe from Wesley's hand. 'We just want to find her … so we can worship her. That's all. She's amazing - you'll go nuts.'

'That'll certainly help us relate better,' Gunn frowned.

'Angel,' Wesley tried to bring reason back to the conversation, 'whatever you're feeling it's some form of enchantment.' But Angel only smiled, wistfully. 'Yeah.'

'Guys,' Doyle had got back to his feet and - his hand slipped inside Cordelia's, once more - headed over to the weapons cabinet to speak to the team. 'We didn't manage to kill it. The thing - the big bad. It's what Lorne saw in Kali all those months ago. It's … hideous and…'

'You do not speak ill of her!' Angel suddenly yelled, launching himself towards Doyle - wielding the axe he had taken from Wesley. Doyle jumped back in alarm - Cordelia pushed him behind herself, whilst Wes and Gunn wrestled with Angel - pulling him away from the half demon. 'Yeah … that's the other thing,' Doyle said, 'whatever it is, it seems to have some kind o' magic effect on these two champions.' He indicated Angel and Groo, 'like they can't see it for what it really is for some reason. We need to find it, stop it - and break the spell.'

'Did it break your neck because you see it properly?' Fred asked him. But Doyle shook his head, '_it_ didn't break my neck - the dark avenger did.' They all turned to stare at Angel. 'He was trying to hurt her!' Angel yelled, still struggling to free himself from Wes and Gunn's grip and get back at Doyle.

'Man, this thing has sure put the whammy on him,' Cordelia said, sadly. 'He stinks with whammy. I wonder what it wants with him.'

'Angel listen to me,' Wesley said - still standing between the vampire and the half demon, 'it's a spell. Think. Even before it's birth, this thing controlled Doyle and then Kalimania - caused them to do unspeakable things. It's evil. Remember the Rain of Fire, permanent midnight, all the horrors done in its name…'

'Must be rectified,' a soft, soothing voice said from the doorway. They all turned to look.

'Oh God, it's here,' Doyle said - his voice trembled with the fear and disgust he had felt before. It was even worse than he remembered. The maggots crawled through the holes where its eyes should be and in and out of its mouth. Blood oozed down its face. He pulled Cordelia to him and held her close, 'don't look at it, Cordy.' But he felt her twist in his grasp and turn away - turning to look at the monstrosity.

Angel and the Groosalug were already on their knees - staring adoringly up at the woman Kali had given birth to. 'My God,' Lorne whispered - staring at the figure in the doorway. She smiled at him - a perfect, radiant beam, 'people keep saying that,' she said, sweetly. Lorne dropped to his knees - Doyle stared at him in disbelief.

'I'm just gonna…' Fred said, awkwardly. She dropped to her knees, 'do this.' Behind her, Gunn knelt down - as well. 'Fred, Gunn, man - what?' Doyle groaned, he pulled Cordy closer to him.

They all gazed up at her smiling face - unable to believe the purity of the joy they felt in their hearts, The goodness of just being close to her. And she was smiling - at them - like they were worthy; worthy of her magnificence, worthy of her love. 'For so long, you've all been drowning in the fighting and the pain. I'd like to help...if you'll have me,' she said.

Wesley dropped to his knee, 'just tell us what to do.'

'Wes, bud - no…' he looked at Cordelia. She glanced at him - and then back at the woman - and then she wrenched herself from his grasp. 'Cordy, please!' he yelled - 'not you, too. No!' But Cordelia joined her friends, kneeling on the floor - gazing up at the woman. 'You're so beautiful,' she breathed - a hushed whisper of awe.

Doyle shook his head and stumbled back from all, until he hit the wall and had nowhere else to go. He kept on shaking his head, 'no no no no no,' he moaned. 'No!'

The thing looked at him, it tilted it's rotting head to the side. 'Father?'

* * *

When Doyle next came to - it was to find himself lying on the floor, locked in the cage in the basement. Angelus' old cage. 'What?' he brought his hand up to his head, feeling the sore lump where he had apparently been knocked out.

'We didn't want to have to hurt you, Doyle,' he heard Cordelia say. He looked up. Wes, Angel and Cordy were standing on the other side of the bars, looking at him very sadly. 'Cordelia…' he got to his feet and put his hands round the bars, trying to wrench the door open. It didn't budge.

'We double locked it to stop you getting out.' Angel said.

'Angel - guys - you gotta listen to me.'

'Why can't you just love her?' Cordelia interrupted. She sounded close to tears. 'You're her father. That's such an honour. Father to a goddess … why do you keep trying to hurt her?'

'Cordelia - she's not what she seems, you've gotta listen … please.' He rattled the cage door again - but it still held fast.

'If you can't love her, then you can't be in her light,' Wesley said to him - his voice was cold.

'I don't _wanna_ be in her light - and neither should you. Guys - come on - Cordy, please. Why can't you trust me on this? We knew the big evil was comin' - she's it.'

'Why would you lie like that?' Cordelia said - sounding shocked at his words.

'It's not me lying …' he fixed her with his gaze, staring into her eyes pleading, 'Princess - please. Lemme out of the cage. Trust me.'

'Don't listen to him, Cordelia,' Angel warned. Cordelia just shook her head. 'you need to stay down here,' she said to Doyle, 'if you can't be with us - if you can't be near her - then you need to stay down here, alone.'

'You can't be a part of our family if you won't worship her,' Angel added. Then the three of them turned and walked away, headed back upstairs.

'Guys!' Doyle called after them, 'wait - you gotta listen .. you gotta believe me…' He rattled the door one last time, venting all his frustration on the bars. But it was no good. He was trapped. He looked around the basement. 'Could you at least move the dismembered body parts of my former spiritual guide, if you're gonna leave me down here?' he called.

* * *

The three of them went upstairs. The others had taken Kali up to Cordelia's old room and laid her out on the bed. They were lighting candles and placing them around her, holding a vigil. 'Eternal bliss,' Lorne said - looking down at Kali's peaceful face, 'it suits her.'

'She must be so happy,' Fred said, looking between the unconscious demon woman and her daughter. 'To be the one who brought you here,' her voice wavered in reverence, 'it's such an honour.'

The woman sat on the bed beside Kali and smiled at the group. 'I'm the one who's honoured. By Kalimania … by all of you.' They smiled back at her, disbelieving that such a divinity would feel honoured to be with them. 'I can't tell you how good it is to be back,' she said.

'Back? You've been here before?' Wesley asked.

The woman nodded. 'Yes. In the beginning, before the time of man, great beings walked the earth,' she told them. They all glanced at each other, smiled, and then looked back towards the woman on the bed - basking in her glory, as she spoke. 'Untold power emanated from all quarters—the seeds of what would come to be known as good and evil. But the shadows stretched and became darkness, and the malevolent among us grew stronger. The earth became a demon realm. Those of us who had the will to resist left this place, but we remained ever-watchful.'

'You're a power that … was?' Gunn asked, wrinkling his brow - as he thought about this perfect being being forced to leave their world, leave them all behind.

She kept on smiling - and they kept on staring at her. She was so full of love, so full of goodness. 'But then something new emerged from deep inside the earth—neither demon, nor God,' she explained.

'Man,' Wesley realised. The woman nodded at him and Wesley felt a rush of love and contentment that he had never known was possible. 'And it seemed, for a time, that through this new race, a balance might be restored,' she said.

'I guess we really let you down,' Fred hung her head - sick at the thought of disappointing this spectacular creature.

'But you didn't,' the woman said - and Fred looked up again, almost in tears of happiness at the woman's mercy. The woman got to her feet. 'It was we who failed you. We became little more than observers. I could no longer bear to just watch all the suffering. I had to find a way back. But, first I needed a miracle. And so I arranged one.'

'What did you do?' Cordelia asked.

'There was once a Promised One,' the woman said, 'a man fated to die so that others may live. A hero. And yet that hero lived, beyond his allotted time - as did the people he was supposed to save. No sacrifice was necessary.'

'Doyle,' Cordelia realised, 'you mean Doyle …' her face suddenly lit up as she understood something, 'you're the higher power that changed destiny and saved his life!'

The woman laughed, 'I cannot take credit for all things, Cordelia,' she said, softly, 'but Doyle was supposed to die - and yet he lived - and from that day on I watched him. I saw him struggle - and fall - and try - and fail again. And in the end, when all seemed lost to him, I took him - away from this world - and I changed him. Gave him the chance to have the one thing he wanted, but could never have. His bitterness over being unable to father a child was eating away at his soul… so I made it right. A man whose continued life was a miracle anyway, bringing forth a miracle of his own.'

'And he fathered you,' Angel said in wonder, his face lit up with love. But then his expression fell, turning to one of sadness, 'but he rejects you - refuses to love you as … as we all do.'

The woman also looked sad. 'It grieves me, more deeply than I can bear, that my own father rejects my love,' she told the others.'

'If he hurt you - we shall kill him,' The Groosalug promised. But the woman shook her head. 'No - never. He is my father. I shall try to reach him. Try to make him understand the infinite goodness of my love. But until that time, he must stay alone - locked in his dungeon. We are connected, my father and I. Hurting him will only hurt me … do you wish to hurt me?'

'Never!' Fred cried, looking horrified.

'My True Lady, I am worthless to even suggest such a thing. I offer my life in penance.'

But the woman shook her head, 'no Groo. You protected my mother; cared for her as she cared for me. I could never be angry with you.' She stroked the Groosalug's face and smiled at him. He smiled back - adoring. 'Without your love, I could never have reentered this physical plane,' she turned and looked at the others, 'I know there has been chaos.'

'All the events we've witnessed these past months,' Wesley realised, 'all the madness - it was birth pains.'

'But now the storm is over,' she agreed.

'And here comes the sun!' Lorne grinned, still staring at this radiant goddess in delight.

'And what of Kalimania?' the Groosalug asked, 'will she ever awaken?'

The woman stared at her mother, resting peacefully on the bed. 'If we take hold of the world, strip away the thorns, win the battle—then, yes, I think she will.'

'How are we gonna do that?' Fred asked.

'One evil at a time. Much damage has been done in my name. There are demons, forces of hate, all over this city.'

'We're going to destroy them all.'

'We're going to change the world,' the woman said.

Angel's eyes lit up with the fire of inspiration. 'Finally,' he smiled in contentment.

* * *

The vampire picked up the severed human head and stared down the lane - at the pins. He and his buddies had taken over the bowling alley, killed all the customers and the people who worked there - and were now killing time itself. He bowled the head - but it didn't roll very well. It stopped short of the pins. 'Aw, that ain't gonna work.'

'Could have told you that,' his buddy got out of his seat and gave him a shove, 'now clear up my line jackass.'

The first vampire walked down the line to retrieve the head and pick up the fallen pins. Then he turned and headed back to the top. ''Let's go to L.A' you said,' he muttered, holding the severed head in his hand,''sun's gone out' you said. "Going to be the feast of the century." But the sun is back, and here we are wasting our time...bowling.'

'I'm telling you,' the second vampire said, getting in his face, 'something big is coming, and when it gets here, we're gonna be in prime position for—'

'An ass whuppin'?' Angel asked. The two vampires turned to look. Angel was stood in the door to the bowling alley, his sword raised, surrounded by Gunn, Wes and Groo - also heavily armed. Cordelia and Fred stood with the woman, using their own weapons to shield her. The men all rushed at the gang of vampires, Cordy and Fred moved through the melée, keeping the woman between them. Angel swung his sword and beheaded a vampire - Cordelia turned to watch. 'Cordelia,' the woman said to her, 'you are a trained warrior, you were born to this - why don't you help them?'

'I need to protect you,' Cordelia protested. But the woman just smiled, beneficently. 'Fred can protect me. You yearn to join in the fight. Please. I wish for you to do so.' Cordelia nodded and turned - decapitating a vampire of her own and then running further into the fray. The woman smiled at Fred, 'sit with me?' she asked.

'Do you think we should?' Fred asked - she scuttled through the fighting - headed for one of the booths.

'I have nothing to fear,' the woman told her - and they sat down. 'Now, what are we going to call me?'

'Oh!' Fred's eyes widened in realisation. 'You don't have a name!'

'No.' She smiled.

'You should have a name!'

'Yes.' The smile grew wider.

Fred giggled nervously. 'I don't know. I can't imagine one word, you know, summing you up. I mean, you're a superior being. Shouldn't you— Don't you want to choose it yourself?'

'No one born to this earth can choose their own name. They are named by those who love them. There are some rules even I must follow.'

Fred looked down, smiling and blushing at having the honour of being one of those that loved this perfect woman. And she was only Fred. Nothing but Fred. And this _goddess_ wanted her to name her. It was too much. It was overwhelming. But - as she looked down - one of the vampires launched itself towards them. It grabbed hold of the woman and, as it did, sliced open her arm with it's fingernails - cutting through her sweater and drawing blood. Angel grabbed the vampire and hit him, viciously. Fred saw the red cut glistening on the woman's arm and tears stood out in her eyes. 'I'm so sorry, it's all my fault!'

The woman glanced down at the injury - and then back up at Fred. Her smile was reassuring, now. 'I'll be fine. You tried to caution me. I should have listened.'

The vampire tore itself free from Angel's grasp and ran off, dodging past the other warriors and running down a bowling lane, headed for the emergency exit. Angel chased after him. 'Hey! You hurt her, you scum!'

* * *

The vampire was outside now - and ran from the bowling alley and out into a pavement cafe, where people were sitting - enjoying the pleasant evening along with their wine. He was aware that Angel was right behind him - catching up - and, as he dodged through the tables, he tried to jump the last one. But he didn't quite make it and instead landed on top of one of the customers - a young man - knocking him off his chair, and knocking him to the ground. In the ensuing confusion and scramble, the vampire scratched the young man with his fingernails - once more drawing blood.

Angel caught up and grabbed the vampire off the young man. Cordelia had followed Angel out - and she threw him a stake, and Angel buried it deep within the vampire's chest. The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust - and the customers in the cafe all gasped in shock. Behind them, the team - and the woman - made their way out of the bowling alley.

'It's alright,' Angel was saying to the customers - most of whom had leapt to their feet in the commotion, 'it's alright - it's all over now.'

'Wh … wh..' one of the customers was staring at the place were the vampire had dusted, unable to get her words out. Then she turned - and caught sight of the woman. 'Oh!' she fell to her knees. Everyone turned to see what she was looking at and - likewise- they all began to kneel before this beauteous creature. This divine presence walking amongst them.

'Everyone, please, stand up. If you wish to honour me, honour each other. We are all one,' the woman said to the crowd. The team all smiled at each other, as the customers got back to their feet. To be in her presence - at her side - when others were seeing her glory for the first time. It was an honour they did not have the words for. They were so filled with pride and joy and gladness that it felt like the whole world was golden and beautiful. And they could see that the other people were starting to feel that, too. 'You're hurt,' one of the customers said - noticing the scratch on her arm. She glanced down at it again. 'I'll be alright. Everything will be alright.'

'All my life, so empty,' a woman said, staring, 'that's over now, isn't it?' Tears shone in her eyes and she felt the loneliness melt away - as she realised that there was purpose and hope - that her life had meaning. That she was worth something. Because she stood in the presence of this goddess.

'Yes, Margaret, it's over,' the woman said to her, gently. Margaret whimpered as the divinity said her name. The woman smiled. 'Yes, I know you.' She looked around at the gathered crowd, 'I know all of you. I've come here for you to bring you the gift of peace. You will be freed from the pains you've suffered. The world will change forever, and you will know the power of my love. The chaos will fade, and harmony will reign.'

As she was speaking - and the crowd was listening in awed silence, the young man - the one who had been scratched by the vampire - moved through the gathered people, edging closer to the speaking woman. He alone - of everyone - was not smiling, did not have tears of joy shining in his eyes. He reached for a knife, which lay on the table beside him. He began to cry - but his tears were tears of anger and fear. He clutched the knife and then charged at the woman. 'Monster! it has to die!' He lunged at her - but Angel intercepted him, pushing him down - so that he had him pinned against the edge of a fountain. He morphed into his vampire features and started to pound on the young man. Beating him viciously again and again and again…


	70. Shiny Happy People: Part Two

_Part Two_

He continued to pound, he had never felt a rage so intense - it pounded in his ears, deafening him to the world around him. Beneath his fists, the man's face began to bruise and bleed, but the sight of the damage was not enough to cause Angel to stop - so blinded by fury, was he. 'Angel, stop,' the woman said, softly, touching his shoulder. 'That's enough.' He felt the sweet caress of her touch, the love and gentleness and goodness that seeped out even from her fingertips. His vampire features melted away.

Beneath him, the young man continued to cry - to moan. 'Don't you see it?' he asked, just as Doyle had done. The woman looked down at him, her face was sad - and confused. She reached out. 'No!' the young man shrieked, 'don't you touch me!' But so great was her compassion, that she felt even for this poor creature that had tried to kill her. She placed her hand on his face, the side that had been demolished by Angel's violence, and stroked his skin. He whimpered in disgust, cringing beneath her touch. His rejection was like a dagger in her heart - and she didn't understand. It was like her father, all over again. Why must these men hurt her? Why could they not love her? Why could they not see the love she had for them? 'Poor thing,' she said softly. Then she turned, 'Wesley?'

'I'll call an ambulance,' Wesley said - and turned to leave. The woman took her hand from the man's face and looked at all the other people gathered there. They loved her. Their faces shone with the joy of her presence … and that was all she wanted. All she asked. She smiled at them all. 'All of you so loving, so strong,' she said to them, 'how can I ask you to understand that a man like this; so full of fear and anger, so alone - he will always be alone. But we have found each other.'

The crowd all smiled - and the team looked at each other, feeling the completeness of this woman's love for them.

* * *

Cordelia sat at the top of the basement stairs. She could see the man in the cage, below. He was sat on the cot - his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped. He looked so depressed, so alone. But there was no need to feel that way - not anymore. No one would ever have to be alone ever again. Everything was going to be alright - everything was perfect - all Doyle had to do was open up his heart to this new presence in their life. But he wouldn't do it. And Cordelia did not understand why.

Doyle looked up, suddenly - and got to his feet. Cordelia stiffened, he must have guessed she was there, felt her presence somehow. Somehow she had given herself away. 'Cordy?' he called out. She held herself still - not daring to breathe. 'Cordelia - princess.' It hurt when he called her that - the word he used to tell her he loved her. But how could he love her? How could he be capable of love when he was rejecting the purest form of joy and love that had ever walked amongst them? There must be no heart beating in his chest - just cold emptiness … and all these years he had pretended he was capable of feeling love: that he had loved her. She wondered why.

'Princess, I know it's you,' he called out, 'you've got that orangey moisturiser on - no one else uses that.'

'Bergamot,' Cordelia muttered to herself - and then bit her lip. But he'd heard. 'Cordelia, darlin' - please. Come down here. Talk to me.' He wrapped his hands around two of the bars and stared out, staring upward, looking for her. She sighed and got to her feet, she may as well face him. He smiled when he saw her, 'darlin'! You're OK? That thing - it hasn't hurt you - hasn't tried…'

'Doyle!' she backed up - looking at him in disgust. 'That thing? That's how you speak about her? She fills my heart. Her goodness, her beauty - she brings nothing but joy and peace and love. She's made everything right. She's everything to me, Doyle, everything! And you call her '_that thing'_?' She reached through the bars and slapped him, a resounding, stinging slap to the face. His head turned with the force of her strike - and a pink mark appeared on his cheek - her hand print.

He looked back at her, sadly. 'You're everything to me, Princess,' he said. 'difference is - what I feel is real. What you're feelin' - it's a lie. She's lyin' to y'. This … woman - if that's what y' wanna call it - she's not what she seems. If you could see the truth - like I do…'

'But it's not you that sees the truth!' Cordelia told him. Her eyes began to shine and her cheeks began to flush, a very pretty pink, as she was overtaken by the zeal of this woman's love - at being able to speak about how wonderful this all was. 'I see her, Doyle. I see her glory, I see her goodness. Being with her - in her presence - it's indescribable, the wonder, the joy. Nothing - in this sorry world - has ever been so perfect, so pure, so right.' She reached out and stroked his face, fondling the place that still bore the pink mark of her own hand. 'I want you to feel that too, Doyle. I need you to feel it. You - of everyone - you've been so lost, in your life, so alone. You've suffered so much, lost so much - and now here she is, the greatest gift you could ever be given. And she's yours! She belongs to you in a way that she will_ never_ belong to any of the rest of us… Your daughter!' tears shone in her eyes and her smile became watery - at the thought of the man she had loved being the father of this most supreme being. The honour of that… but then her face fell back into sadness. 'And you refuse to love her. It breaks my heart - what you're missing out on.'

He took his left hand from the bar and put it on top of her own, holding her hand on his cheek. 'And it breaks my heart to see you taken over by her lies. Unable to think for y'self. Cordy - in all my life, I've never met anyone who knows their own mind- knows themselves - better than you. You're stronger than this. You can see the truth. You just have to believe me.'

But Cordelia only shook her head. 'You're wrong,' she said, 'it's you who's being weak.' She took her hand away from his face. 'You're too afraid to let yourself love her. Too afraid to let everything be good. Maybe you've lost too much in your life to take the risk of losing something this precious … But this is the real deal, this time - I promise. She is here to stay, we have nothing to be afraid of.'

'If you could see her real face - you'd know that's not true,' he said, softly.

She turned away from him, shaking her head. 'This isn't gonna work,' she said. 'if you can't love her - you have to stay down here, locked up - and I have to be out there. You should see the good we're doing,' she turned back to him, 'you could be a part of that.'

'We were already doin' good.'

'She's going to change the world. We're gonna destroy the evil - one fight at a time…'

'We already did that. We didn't need her.'

'And when we're done - the whole world will be better. Everyone will live in peace - harmony … but you just can't understand.'

'I understand she is the evil that we need to destroy.'

'There's no point in talking about this,' she cried in frustration, shaking her head. 'You can't see that you're wrong. I wanted to share this with you, but you're too closed off. Too cold and empty and broken. So you can stay down here and rot - I won't be coming back.' She headed back for the stairs. 'I need to go back to her,' she said, 'it hurts when I'm not near her.'

Doyle stared after her, both hands wrapped around the bars once more - gripping them tightly. 'Cordelia - please - wait!' But she didn't turn back, didn't even look at him. She closed the basement door and left him alone in the dark, once more.

* * *

When Cordelia got back up to the lobby - it was to find the supreme, glorious divinity sitting on the round sofa - holding a towel to her injured arm, waiting patiently for Cordelia to tend to her. Wes and Gunn were sat on the stairs, cleaning their weapons and trying to think of a name for their new goddess. 'What about ...Helen?' Gunn suggested.

'Helen,' Wesley frowned.

'It's got a ring to it.'

'Yes it does…' the watcher agreed, 'however something along the lines of…' he looked at the woman; taking in her beauty, her dignity, her mercy and her grace, 'Dianthia,' he suggested, 'or Iphigenia.'

'Those are some long lines,' Gunn muttered.

'Or Aristophilia, which means…'

'Supreme lover of mankind,' the woman finished for him, smiling graciously, 'that's lovely.'

'Helen was my grandmother's name,' Gunn said - and the woman turned her beneficent smile on him, making him feel whole and loved and valued with just that one little action. 'Helen is beautiful too,' she told him. But nothing was decided upon - so Wesley tried again, 'OK - how about…'

'Clorox,' Fred said, walking down the staircase. She held the woman's torn and stained sweater in her hands. The two men frowned at the suggestion. 'Clorox, she bleaches away the hate,' Gunn tried it out for size. He shook his head - it didn't suit.

'We should probably avoid brand names,' Wesley said. Gunn nodded.

'No,' Fred shook her head at them, reaching the lobby and standing in front of the woman. As she stood there, she felt the warmth of her presence wash over her, once again. Just those few minutes upstairs had been cold and lonely - but now everything was wonderful, again. 'I meant the shirt - I know I can get this stain out.'

'It's not important, Fred,' the woman said, kindly.

'No it is - I can make it good as new again.'

'There's really no need - it's just a shirt.'

'But it's yours!' Fred blurted out, flushing with love. 'And it was on you. On your holy bodiness,' she babbled. Her face fell, 'and it's my fault you were attacked.'

'Nonsense. There is no fault. It was a new and vivid experience. To be able to bleed, feel things, anything—even pain—is a gift. You people take your senses for granted.'

There was a moment of silence and then - 'club soda!' Fred said, as if she hadn't heard a word. She ran from the room. Gunn laughed, 'might as well just let her do her thing,' he said.

'Yes,' Wesley agreed, 'Fred can be quite single-minded when she is focused on a problem.'

The woman looked at them both - at the identical smiles on their faces as they thought about Fred. 'You love her very much,' she said, they both looked up at her. 'Both of you,' she clarified. They glanced at each other, uneasily. 'Don't you see? You both have the same love. That should bring you closer together, not drive you apart.' They glanced at each other again - but this look was brotherly, as they recognised what they shared - and ceased, through this woman's love, to be rivals. It was all so clear - so simple.

Cordelia came out of the office, carrying her first aid kit, then. 'I'm sorry you were hurt,' she said to the woman. The woman lifted the towel from her wound, ready for Cordelia to dress it - but the skin had completely healed over, the injury had vanished. 'But there was so much blood,' Cordelia said in amazement.

'I heal quickly. Must be a benefit of being a former power, I guess.'

'Why did that man want to hurt you?' Cordelia asked, 'like Doyle - what's wrong with them?'

'I'm not sure,' the woman said, though her voice was heavy with sadness as she thought of the poor men she could not reach. 'Some people can't accept change. It scares them, and that fear becomes hatred, and they take that hatred out on others…' she glanced towards the open door leading out to the courtyard. 'Or some on themselves…'

* * *

She walked out into the garden. It was a beautiful night - the sky was an inky black, the moon was shining down - bathing the whole garden in it's pale light. The flowers bloomed in the planters- their petals gleaming white in the moonlight. But Angel was sat on the edge of the fountain - solitary - and sad.

'That fragrance,' the woman said, taking a deep breath - savouring the delicate aroma, 'it's lovely. What is it?'

Angel looked up and glanced around. 'Must be the jasmine,' he said, distracted.

'Night blooming,' she smiled, 'so beautiful… so lonely … like you.'

Angel looked at her - and then away, too ashamed to face her. He had shamed her. Almost killed that man. Used violence against him. He would have killed him if the woman hadn't have stopped him. It was a betrayal of the love and peace she offered to the world.

'Angel,' she said softly, 'you were only trying to protect me, there can be no shame in that.'

'I don't want to fail you again,' he said, quietly.

'Then don't.'

But it wasn't that simple. The way he felt… 'You must let go of your anger towards that poor soul,' she said to him. But he shook his head. It wasn't the anger he felt… it was the happiness. That she was here. That she was with him. He was so glad. He had never been so glad of anything in his life. It filled him with a joy so close to perfection that … he shuddered. 'If I get too happy, if I allow myself to feel what I'm feeling…' tears stood out in his eyes, 'Angelus might…'

'I know,' she told him. 'But soon none of that will matter. Evil will be banished by the deeds we will do, Angel. Even the evil that's inside of you. That too will be gone, and all that will be left is the beauty.'

'Eradicate all evil,' he said, wonderingly. 'Is that even possible? We've been fighting for so long.'

'I know. I've seen it all. It's why I've come back.' She put her hand beneath Angel's chin and tilted his head so he was looking at her. 'You are my general - and I have faith in you.'

'You … have faith in me?'

She looked up at the veranda - where the rest of the team had assembled - and smiled at them all._ 'I have faith in all my warriors, each and every one of you. You are all up to the task. You're not alone anymore. I will be with you everywhere you go. I'll be at your side...'_

...

Angel kicked down the door - and Cordy and the men strode in weapons raised. Slashing their swords and decapitating the demons.

...

Fred stood at the sink and diligently scrubbed away at the shirt. The soap frothed and lathered in her hands. She wiped her brow. It was hard without the woman close by. But this was for her - she had to get it right…

...

_'I will guide your hands and give you strength.'_

_..._

Angel severed another creature's head. Wesley threw his knife and it buried itself in a demon's chest. All around them the evil was dying - and they were acting as one, a cohesive unit - never before had they been so in tune with one another - ready to catch one another if they faltered, strengthening each other. Never had they done so much good.

...

Fred's hands were raw now. They had been in the water so long - and the friction of rubbing the shirt, pressing in the club soda - was taking the skin from her hands. But she needed to get this right. This shirt had adorned the glorious body of the woman - it was sacred now in its own right. And Fred needed to prove her love - to show how much the woman meant to her.

...

_'With my help - all things are possible'_

_..._

Angel threw a stake at Cordelia and she caught it and plunged it into a vampire's heart. The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust. The Groosalug ran a demon through with his sword. Gunn swung his axe with all his might. The evil was falling back - they were winning. At long last - they were finally winning.

...

_'There will be no doubt, no worry, no fear, for you will know you cannot be beaten...'_

* * *

Doyle sat back on the cot. His head in his hands once more. That _thing_ \- that monster was up there. It had stolen his friend's minds. Taken their will. And - locked up as he was - there was nothing he could do to protect them. No way he could make it right. This evil needed to be fought. He needed to find a way to do it. This was on him - that evil thing was, as everyone kept saying to him, his daughter. She only existed because he had brought her into being. Him and Kali. And now he was the only one who could see the truth. He needed to find a way to fight this - to send his own spawn back to the hell it crawled out of. But, trapped in the cage, he would need a miracle if he was going to get the job done.

* * *

They had the news on in the lobby. The newscaster was reporting that - after several weeks of sky-rocketing homicide rates - this week there had been a sudden, dramatic decrease in the number of southland murders. The sheriff's department was attributing it to their new 'tough on crime' policy …'

Angel switched the T.V off, 'hmm - a little credit for 'the divinity behind the scenes' wouldn't suck,' he said, smiling at the woman. He held Connor in his arms - and the baby was staring at the woman in rapt pleasure - cooing occasionally, and chuckling. Angel smiled down at his son - and then looked back at the woman.

'It isn't important who gets the credit,' she told him, 'what matters is that we're winning.'

'And if we keep going at this rate…' Wesley began. Gunn finished up for him, 'L.A will become a demon-free zone. Hello Garden City.'

'You never doubted us,' Angel said to the woman, 'not even for a second.'

'There's no room for doubt, Angel,' she said, 'only love.'

'Hear that little buddy?' Angel said to Connor, 'only love - for all of us - from here on out.' The woman smiled and reached out and stroked Connor's chubby little cheek. 'Connor is one of the luckiest of all,' she said, 'he will grow up having never experienced anything but perfect love. For his and all generations to come, they need never know the loneliness and emptiness that you have all suffered. How wonderful to be here - to take that burden from you all - and to spare your young from ever having to know it.'

'Sometimes I think we don't deserve your love,' Angel admitted, 'but then I look at Connor … and I could never deny him this joy. The gladness of knowing you. Perhaps - in his innocence - he deserves you most of all.'

'But you were all like Connor, once,' the woman told them, 'and can be again - with my help. With my love.'

'A return to innocence,' Wesley said, 'a return from the fall. Back to the Garden. I would never have thought it possible.'

'I make all things possible.'

'And serving you is all we ask for,' Cordelia told her. Then she turned - as she heard footsteps crossing the lobby. It was Lorne, 'hey!' she said to him, excitedly, 'we made the news! A dramatic decrease in southland murders - all thanks to our merry band of champions and the one we serve…' she beamed at the woman.

'That's great!' Lorne said, 'so much for the nagging apocalypse. And - uh - speaking of dramatic,' he looked shyly at the woman. 'I've got a smidge of a surprise for you … upstairs.'

'Surprises,' the woman smiled, 'they're one of my favourite things about being human.' Lorne chuckled - and led her up to see what he had done for her.

The team stared after as she left. 'Isn't she ...' Angel said.

'Yeah,' Cordelia sighed - not needing to hear the end. They all knew it - felt what she was.

'A miracle,' Gunn said.

Fred came into the lobby - holding the blue sweater. 'Well I tried,' she held it up, 'what do you think?'

'It looks brand new,' Wesley said - sounding impressed. But that just made Fred burst into tears. 'It is,' she admitted. 'I - I bought a new one.' She sat down on the stairs and continued to weep.

'Well - that's even better,' Wesley tried to reassure her.

'I know,' Fred cried.

Angel went to sit beside her. 'She'll love it,' he told the weeping woman, 'what's the matter?'

'She's not here,' Fred sobbed. The team all glanced at each other. 'She's just upstairs,' Gunn said.

'Yeah, but,' she clutched the sweater to her chest for comfort, 'when she's not around, I hurt.'

* * *

Lorne opened the door and ushered the woman inside the suite of rooms. He had prepared them for her - decorating them to try and style something befitting her magnificence. She stared around the room, 'oh Lorne,' she breathed, her eyes shining.

'It's uh - it's too diva, isn't it?' he said, nervously. 'Diva - deity - it's a thin line.'

'It's lovely,' she assured him. She inhaled deeply. 'There's that wonderful smell again.' she walked over to a large vase of flowers standing on the dresser, and breathed in their perfume. 'Jasmine.' She turned back to the demon hovering anxiously by the door. 'Oh, really, Lorne, it's more than I could ask for.'

He beamed with pleasure at her praise. 'Oh well - I'm as tickled as… a person who's so tickled their out of similes.'

'Thank you again, Lorne.'

He nodded his head - and then turned and left the room, giving her some space - though he hated to leave her side. The woman watched him go - he had left the door open - and she became aware of someone lurking awkwardly just outside. 'Come on in, Cordelia,' she called, 'you're troubled. I can tell. Tell me what's bothering you.'

Cordelia stepped inside, a little hesitant - a little overwhelmed to find herself one on one with the goddess. Overwhelmed to discover that this most divine creature could read her moods - and cared enough about them to ask. When she was only Cordelia. She was a nobody. Not compared to this indescribable deity. 'It's…' she bit her lip, 'I'm sorry to mention him. I know it grieves you - and … I don't want anything to upset you. But. It's... Doyle.'

'My father,' the woman said, looking sad. Cordelia sat down. 'Why can't he love you?' she asked. 'I love you so much. You make me so happy - so complete. I didn't even know I was missing you and now … I can't imagine you not being here,' she frowned, '- can't bear to imagine it.' The woman smiled at her words. Cordelia looked at her. 'I want Doyle to feel this, too,' she said. 'I love him - as well - at least, I thought I did. If he can't love you then … maybe I was just kidding myself that he was worth it. But - the man I thought I loved - I want him to have this happiness. This completeness. Everyone should experience your love - and Doyle … he needs it more than most. Why can't he just love you?' Her voice rose in frustration.

The smile slid from the woman's face, and she looked down. 'I don't know why my father rejects me - my love - what I have to offer him. It fills me whole heart with sadness.'

'And I hate that he makes you sad!'

'We can all be hurt by those we love.'

'But not when you're around,' Cordelia's face glowed, 'apart from those who can't see your glory. Why Doyle?' Why did it have to be _Doyle_ that couldn't love you?'

'Perhaps his love is the sacrifice I have to make to have the love of you all. The universe does not give us everything.'

'You shouldn't have to make sacrifices!' Cordelia protested. But the woman smiled, gently. 'Even former powers are bound by certain rules,' she said, 'and it seems I am bound to not be given everything I desire.'

'I wish I could give you everything,' Cordelia said, earnestly, 'I wish I could make him see. I spoke to him - but he refused to listen.'

'Thank you for trying. It means a lot that you tried. His love … it would make everything right. He is a unique soul. A promised hero - one born to die and yet he lives. His specialness is beyond all others. Perhaps that is why his suffering must be worse.'

'You still love him?' Cordelia asked, 'even though he rejects you?'

'How could I not love my own father?'

'Because he won't love you - why? - is he broken?'

The woman smiled sadly, 'perhaps,' she admitted. 'His destiny was finished a long time ago - and yet his life continues. That is… a situation most never find themselves in. He is rudderless - adrift. I hoped to give him some clarity, some meaning back in this world. When destiny reshaped around him - giving him a future he was not supposed to have - his continued existence stole my chosen vessel from me, my real mother. I could not enter the world as I wished - because Doyle lived. But he was so lost - faltering and falling - making the wrong decision at every turn.'

'Because his destiny was over and he was still here?' Cordelia asked. The woman nodded. 'It seemed only right to try and give him a new destiny - a new shape - a new form. Having stolen my real vessel, I used him to bring me into this world. And dear Kalimania - my new mother. But it hasn't been enough. He is still lost.'

Cordy shook her head, 'and I don't think he's ever gonna let himself be found,' she said.

'But even if he is lost - we must still love him,' the woman said. 'Still protect him. He is precious to me - even if I am not precious to him.'

Cordelia nodded - and smiled up at the woman, glad she had another reason to love her, glad they shared a common bond: their shared sadness over Doyle, their shared love of a man who was not worthy of that love. It was something no one else would ever share with her, this was all Cordelia's. It made her heart ache to think of Doyle alone in the cage, rejecting this perfect joy - but she loved him all the more for giving her this reason to grow closer to the sublime woman, who made everything right.

...

There was a nervous tap on the door and Fred walked in. She carried the sweater in her hands and was looking down at it. 'Hi, I know it's not the exact same shirt, but it's pretty close, and I scrubbed the other one 'til my fingers bled, but I couldn't get out the—' she looked up, smiling, ready to bask in the warmth of the woman's presence. Her jaw dropped open. Instead of the pure beauty, instead of the gentle smile and golden-brown skin, there was … there was… maggots - and worms - decaying and rotting, crawling through putrefied flesh. Blank eyeholes, with crawling creatures, and dripping, oozing … 'blood,' she gasped.

* * *

Far above his head - and unknown to him - Doyle had just got his miracle.


	71. Shiny Happy People: Part Three

_Part Three_

She was just frozen - rooted to the spot, watching in horror as the maggots wriggled and crawled through the blank eye sockets in that disgusting, rotting face. 'Fred?' she heard the woman's soft voice come out from the stinking mouth of the creature, spewing forth more wriggling maggots. 'Is something wrong?'

Fred began to cry, 'I - I'm sorry!'

Cordelia looked between the two others - the beautiful deity who filled her heart with joy, and Fred - weeping. She frowned - there was no need to cry when the woman was close by them. 'I'll get her some water,' she offered, getting to her feet.

Fred gasped - horrified at the thought of being left alone with this … _thing_ \- and reached out to stop Cordy from leaving. 'No, don't,' she begged - and then shook her head slightly, trying to cover, 'I mean - I'll be fine.' She tried to smile through her tears. But the maggots were still writhing, the blood was still oozing and all that flesh was just rotting away right in front of her.

...

Gunn, Wesley and Lorne walked down the hallway, headed for the woman's room. Wanting to bask in her presence, feel her grace and love, once more. But as they got closer they could hear weeping. 'Sounds like someone's…' Gunn's face wrinkled into a frown. There was no need for tears when the woman was so close. They stepped into the room. It was Fred crying - standing in front of their glorious deity, sobbing. 'What's all the booing and hooing, sweet pea?' Lorne asked her.

'Fred, there's no reason to cry,' Wesley said to her, gently. He nodded towards the glorious woman, 'she's right there.' He smiled as he felt her love wash over him, again.

'I- I know,' Fred sobbed. She tried to get a hold of herself. She needed to get out of here - get away from that thing, needed to find a way to extricate herself from the situation - safely, so no one would realise something was wrong. She needed a lie. 'I was just thinking,' she started, '...what it would be like if you weren't here...' she stifled her own sobs, choking them back. 'And I guess I just kind of lost it.'

'I'm not going anywhere Fred, you can trust that,' the rotting face said to her. She closed her eyes - unable to look at it's decaying flesh and oozing blood any longer. 'I think I just…' she began to back away - stepping out of the group of her friends, headed for the door. 'Need some time alone to you know...' she opened her eyes and faked a big grin, though it was still watery and her bottom lip still trembled, 'count my blessings, 'cause there's so many and it's good to - um - take stock.' She stumbled through the door, still crying - and ran away down stairs.

* * *

Sat on the cot, his head still in his hands, Doyle wondered just how long it was since he'd been left alone down here. There was no light - he couldn't make out the hands of his watch - he didn't know if it was hours, or more than a day. He was hungry and thirsty. He really needed to pee and they hadn't left him a bucket. It was getting to the point where he was having to fight the urge to just go in the corner … it may yet come to that. Surely someone would have to come back to him soon? Sure - Cordelia had said she wasn't coming back for him but … they weren't just gonna leave him down here to die, were they?

Far above him, he heard the click of the basement door - and then a quiet step on the stairs. Finally - someone was coming to see him! And from the footfalls it sounded like a woman. He got to his feet and crossed to the edge of the cage, gripping the bars, once again and peering out. 'Cordelia?' he called, 'I knew you'd come back for me, knew y' just wouldn't leave me here to … y' haven't got a bucket with y' have darlin'? 'cause I'm tellin' y' I really need to …'

He trailed off as the figure stepped out of the gloom - and he saw that it wasn't Cordelia. It was Fred. 'Oh - um - hey, Fred … about that whole bucket thing … just forget I …'

'What did you see?' Fred interrupted him. He fell silent and stared at her. 'When she was born,' Fred continued - walking up to the bars. She wrapped her own hands around them from the other side, just above Doyle's own - and stared into his eyes. 'You saw something - what was it?'

He dropped his hands from the bars and turned away. 'What does it matter? none of y' want to hear about it. Y' all too busy worshippin' and praisin' and…'

'Maggots,' she said, 'and blood and decaying flesh.' She started to cry. He turned back to look at her. 'I saw it,' she sobbed, 'I saw it too!' She brought her hand up to her mouth, her shoulders heaved with her sobbing. 'Is that what you saw?'

He went back to her - and placed his hand gently over her own, which still held the bar. 'Yeah, darlin' - that's what I saw. That's what she is. No one believed me … until now.'

'What is she?' Fred cried.

'I don't know - but she's the evil that we need to stop. The one we knew was comin'.'

'Why did she appear like that before - so beautiful - why has she changed? Why did she have to change?'

'She hasn't changed, love,' he said gently. 'She was like that from the moment she was born. It's your perception that's changed.'

'Why?' she was still sobbing.

'That's what we're gonna have to figure out. If we're gonna save everyone else. If you can see her, maybe there's hope for everyone. Maybe we can stop her.'

'I hate feeling this way,' Fred's whole face was crumpled and red from her crying. 'I wanna go back - I don't wanna feel this way. I'm cold and I hurt…and I'm so alone.'

Doyle squeezed her hand, 'you're not alone Fred. I can help you. You just gotta let me out of the cage.'

She nodded - still weeping - and took out the key which unlocked the double locked bolts on the door. He stood back - watching her through the bars, stood on the very edge of his prison - trying to help him. He was struck by a sudden memory. 'Hey, Fred,' he said, softly. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. He smiled a wry, half smile, 'remember? This is how we first met.'

'You in prison and me … I was alone then, too.'

'And everythin' was alright in the end. It will be again, Fred. trust me.'

She nodded again - and finished unlocking the bolts, and opened the door. He stepped out of the cage, 'thanks.'

'How do we get out?' Fred asked, 'if we go up to the lobby - if they see you…'

'Too risky,' he said, shaking his head, 'we'll go out the sewer access,' he led her over to the hatch way that led down to the tunnels, heaving it open. 'And then once we're back on the streets - we're hittin' MaccyD's for the bathroom.'

* * *

They walked down the hallway of the hospital, being able to think of no other lead. 'So this guy saw her true face as well?' Doyle asked.

'I don't what he saw - but he tried to kill her, when everyone else was down on their knees worshipping her. And he was crying - screaming - asking if we couldn't see.'

'Sounds like he's like us - we just gotta establish a link, a pattern.' They approached the nurses station. 'I just hope he's still here,' Fred said. The nurse looked up at them, 'can I help you?'

'Um - hi - um yes,' Fred said, her voice trembled with nerves, 'we're looking for a patient. A man. He was brought in Thursday. Named Stover.'

The nurse looked between the pair of them. 'You two family?' she asked. Fred and Doyle glanced at each other, before both nodding their heads. 'Yep,' Doyle said.

'Family members, that's us,' Fred said. 'He's my brother…' she frowned, trying to remember how old he had been - if that was likely, 'father,' she corrected - and then hedged her bets. 'Father's brother.'

Doyle gave her a swift look. She was panicking. She needed to calm down - but, even though she seemed to be free of the enchantment - or the mind control - or whatever - she still wasn't herself. She was more trembly and squirrely than usual. And Fred was pretty squirrely to start off with.

The nurse had accepted her story though - and started tapping on her computer to find any information that matched. 'I have a _Stoller_,' she said after a few seconds. Fred closed her eyes and cursed, 'half brother,' she said. Uncle. Half Uncle. Stoller. That's it…' the nurse was looking more and more suspicious. 'Please,' Fred said, 'I just need to know if he's alright.'

Whatever her suspicions about their family status - and why they didn't know the patient's name - the nurse recognised the need in Fred's voice - the concern and worry. She had seen it a thousand times. 'Dr. Keller treated him,' she told the couple.

'Is he still here?' Fred asked.

'He's been transferred to…' she saw the name of the ward, 'oh…' she glanced up the young man and woman, her eyes worried - and a little embarrassed. 'Where is he?' Doyle asked.

...

They made their way up to the psychiatric unit. 'How come he ended up here?' Doyle wondered - as they walked down the echoey, deserted corridor.

'If he kept talking about what he saw…' Fred said, 'we locked you in a cage for talking about what you saw. If we'd had access to the hospital...'

'You'd have locked me in here and had me strapped down to a bed, again,' Doyle finished up. Fred looked at him, 'again?' she asked, 'when were you strapped down before?'

'Long time ago, now, darlin' - before we met - I got attacked by the visions, they wouldn't stop comin', nearly killed me. The hospital couldn't figure it out - so they strapped me to a bed and stuck me full o' drugs.'

'How horrible.'

'Yeah - well - suffice it to say I'm not too crazy about these places, anymore,' he suddenly looked awkward. 'I didn't mean that as a pun,' he added.

'Good - 'cause it would have been in bad taste.'

They arrived at the door to the ward - it was locked by an electronic keypad. Fred peered through the window, 'someone's coming,' she hissed, 'get ready.' They lurked in the shadows, by the door, until the person came out of the ward and then - once the person had walked off - they caught the door before it closed, and snuck inside.

They made their way quietly to the room at the end of the ward - the board outside said the patient inside was John Stoller, and his medical notes were in the docket. 'This must be it,' Doyle said, he pushed the door open and they went inside.

There was only one bed in the room - right in the far corner. The room was mostly in darkness - though there was a patch of light, where the rays of a street lamp were thrown in from outside. John Stoller lay in the dark - strapped to the bed - his face turned from the door.

'John?' Fred asked him quietly, 'John Stoller?'

The man didn't look at her - in fact he turned his head further to the wall, straining to turn further away from his visitors. 'Go away,' he said. His voice sounded sullen - choked up on his own misery.

'We need to talk to y', bud,' Doyle said, 'it's real important.'

'We need to know. Do you have a history of mental…' Fred cut herself off, 'what I mean is, have you - uh - been in this particular ward before?'

'You mean am I crazy?' He gave a bitter laugh.

'Were you before Thursday?' Fred asked.

'Leave me alone.' They could hear the catch in his voice - knew he was close to tears.

'Look, bud, there's no shame in bein' here,' Doyle told him, 'I've wound up in one of these places, myself, one time. That wasn't my fault. And…' he glanced at Fred, 'we think the reason you're here might not be your fault, either.'

'We don't think you're crazy,' Fred agreed - she began to walk towards the bed. 'We think we know what happened … what you saw. Because we saw it too. That woman you attacked.'

'Not a woman,' Stoller cut in, shaking his head on the pillow - correcting her.

'Her face - it's horrible isn't it?' Fred put her hands to her own face, to her smooth skin, as she thought about the nightmarish travesty that was the woman's face. 'Decaying, blood, things living there.'

Stoller had gone very still. But tears were rolling from the one eye they could see, sliding down his cheek - past the bruising that Angel's beating had put there. 'You did see it,' he gasped.

'Yeah, we saw it,' Doyle said quietly, 'what we wanna know is…'

'Did it touch you?' Stoller demanded, interrupting.

The two of them looked at each other, not understanding, and then back at Stoller. 'What?' Fred asked him. The young man finally rolled his head, so they could see the side of his face that he'd kept hidden in the shadows. The light from the street lamp fell across him - and both Fred and Doyle had to hold themselves steady to stop themselves crying out in shock, or backing away from him. John Stoller's face had been changed - where Angel had beaten him, until he bled - and then the woman had placed her hand, shown her compassion. There was the rough shape of a hand print on his skin - and where the imprint lay, his skin had turned grey; like it too was rotting. It's texture was wrinkled and bumpy and his eye was blackened - as if it was rotting out of his head, just like the woman's had.

He stared at them. His desperation visible, even under the grotesque, demonic bumps. 'Don't let it touch you,' he rasped out.

'Sh - she did that to you?' Fred asked - unable to look away from his disfiguration. Doyle swallowed, hard, and looked at the floor. 'I'm sorry,' he said. He was - as well. Whatever this thing was, she was his daughter - here because of him. This man's ruined face, his misery, his incarceration - all came back to him. He felt sick. And thankful that Angel had snapped his neck when he had - before he could get too close to the woman. Before she could touch him - disfigure him the way she had poor Stoller. It didn't bear thinking about.

Stoller was now trying to sit up, struggling against his restraints. 'Untie me, please,' he begged of them, 'I have to get out of here, I have to finish it.'

'Finish what?' Fred asked, watching him struggle with the binds that held him - but not moving to help. Doyle stepped forward and gently pulled her away from the bound man.

'I have to kill it, it has to die.'

'OK- woah - yeah, bud , not disagreein' with y',' Doyle said, moving Fred behind him, 'we want her dead too - but I'm not sure you're the best person - or in a fit state to do it. I think y' safer off in here, until it's over.'

'You said you saw it,' the man yelled at them.

'We did,' Fred said.

'Then you've been called too - to the mission.'

'Called?' Fred shook her head, 'I don't get called…'

Doyle glanced back at her, frowning - and then back towards Stoller. 'Look - we'll kill it,' he said, 'we will. We're used to killin' things - I know we don't look like much, but me and Fred? We're heroes - we can do this. You just need to calm down - and tell us what y' know.'

'It's your duty!'

'I know my duty,' the Irishman assured him, 'four years of headcrackin' visions from the higher powers - fightin' every monster they throw my way. And nothin's defeated me yet. I know my duty. And I'll do it. Just … lie back down and tell us what you know.'

Stoller fought his restraints a little longer - and then went limp. He collapsed on the bed, weeping. 'What?' he asked, 'what do you want?'

Fred took a deep breath and stepped out from behind Doyle, walking closer to the prone man, once more. 'We need to know how it happened. What you remember. We came out of that bowling alley - and everyone fell to their knees when they saw her - but not you. When did you see her as she really is?'

'I never saw anything else,' the man wept. 'That monster came out of the bowling alley - and everyone started worshipping it.'

Fred and Doyle glanced at each other - so this man was like Doyle, he had always seen. Always known. Not like Fred - who came to see afterwards. 'I didn't understand,' Stoller was saying. 'I'd been knocked to the ground - by that … man, who came running out. We fell to the ground. He cut me - and then he was dragged away from me, and he exploded.'

'There was a vampire attack,' Fred whispered to Doyle. The half demon nodded with understanding.

'Everyone got to their feet - the commotion - the exploding man … and then they were kneeling, and I looked to see what they were kneeling for and…' he began to cry again in earnest, as he remembered. 'It's your duty,' he said to them, 'others won't see - you've been called.'

'I don't get…' Fred started to say, and then her phone began to ring. Her and Doyle stared at each other. 'That's just eerie,' she muttered, and took her cell out of her pocket. 'It's Angel,' she said. 'Do I answer it?'

Doyle nodded, 'see what he wants... see if he knows about me.' He turned back to Stoller, 'thanks for your time, bud - we'll get right on that killin' thing. You just lie here - and uh - try not worry, yeah?'

He and Fred walked back to the door. 'Don't trust her!' Stoller yelled after them, as they left, 'don't trust anyone.'

...

Fred hung up the phone. Her voice had wavered and trembled the whole time she had been speaking to Angel, but she hadn't given anything away. 'They don't know about you,' Fred said, 'at least - they didn't mention ya. They seem to still think you're in the cage.'

'Unless it's a trap,' Doyle suggested. 'Unless they realise I got free, you're missin' - they put two and two together - and now they want to get us back.'

'I don't think it was a trick,' Fred said, 'I really think he doesn't know.'

'What makes y' so sure?'

Fred closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 'Letting you out - it was a betrayal. A betrayal of her. It hurts so much without her. It hurts so much that I betrayed her ...and I can see what she is. If they knew I'd hurt her - they'd be so angry with me, they couldn't hide it. Couldn't play tricks. You don't understand, Doyle. You never felt her love - how it holds you close, keeps you warm and promises that everything's gonna be alright - that nothing will be bad, or lonely, or empty again. And how much you love her - for making you feel that way. And if anyone hurt her - anyone at all - you'd want to kill them. They're not clever enough to play tricks, right now - they're too wrapped up in her.'

Doyle looked uneasy. 'Nice little cult she has goin' on there,' he said. 'Would be nice if she hadn't started with _my_ family.'

'She's your daughter - who else's family was she gonna take?'

'Still...' he thrust his hands into his pockets, as he walked along beside Fred, 'I'm just not sure we should be underestimatin' what they're capable of, right now. We need to avoid them. Get the hell outta Dodge if we can.'

'Run away?'

'No … retreat, regroup and recalibrate. We gotta find a way to stop her, and then we gotta rescue our friends. But we can't do that if we both end up locked in the basement.'

'But we're not the rescuin' kind!' she protested. 'You're the sidekick and I'm … I'm the girl that falls down, gets lost and then Angel saves me.'

Doyle looked at her, speculative, but a little sad. 'Well, today darlin' is the day you repay the favour.'

'So what are we gonna do?'

* * *

They had agreed to return to the hotel - but not to enter it. They were simply going to take one of the cars and then drive away - find somewhere to hide until they could think of a solution. But best laid plans …

As they made their way round the block, to the back of the hotel where the cars were parked - they saw streams of people headed for the Hyperion; pushing the gates open and then entering the courtyard. 'I've never seen you like this,' they heard one girl laugh - as her friend pulled her along the road. 'I'm telling you, you have to meet her,' her friend replied, 'come on.'

Fred and Doyle exchanged a look. More people seemed to have come under the influence of the woman in the time since they had left. It wasn't looking good. As they got closer - and just before he turned to see them - they realised Lorne was standing at the garden gates, welcoming people into the hotel. Doyle ducked behind a bush, hidden from view, just as Lorne turned and saw Fred. She stood on the sidewalk - like a rabbit in the headlights. But Lorne only smiled at her and came to take her arm, 'where've you been, Pumpkin?' he asked her, steering her towards the hotel. 'It's been amazing.' He walked her through the courtyard. 'She went out for a walk and it was like a Hard Day's Night. Everybody followed her back.' He walked her up to the lobby, inside it was teeming with hundreds of people. 'Isn't it fabulous?' he asked - and then abandoned her to go and mingle. She stood still and looked around at everyone, her heart was hammering in her chest.

* * *

Left alone, once he was sure Lorne was out of view, Doyle stepped out from behind his bush and made his way to where the cars were. They didn't have any keys, of course - but that didn't matter to him. He hopped over the driver's door of the Plymouth - glanced around - and then stripped back the steering column, taking out the bundle of wires he found there...

* * *

Fred looked around. She could see Wesley talking to some of the strangers that had gathered in their lobby. She bit her lip. She knew Doyle said that their friends couldn't be reached - that if just talking to them, appealing to their common sense or their love, would work - then Cordelia would have believed Doyle. She didn't. She was lost. And if Doyle couldn't reach Cordelia, then all of them were lost. But Fred wasn't so sure. Wesley was… Wesley. He was smart, he was good with books and prophecies. He knew magic and languages and philosophy. He could see reason, think critically, ask the hard questions … and answer them, unflinchingly. And he loved Fred. She knew he did - loved her beyond all reason. Maybe she could reach Wesley. She would feel better if she had him on her side. Doyle was OK but … he didn't really have the skills they needed. He wasn't the leader - neither the champion nor the boss. He couldn't take charge. They needed someone who would take charge. She went over to speak to the watcher.

He smiled, as she approached him - but then his expression clouded as he saw the seriousness of her own. 'What is it?' he asked.

'I need you,' she said, pulling him aside. She lowered her voice so that no one else would hear. 'If I told you something—you know, that maybe you didn't want to know even—you'd trust me, right?'

'Of course,' he said - looking surprised.

'I...went to see that man from the restaurant. The one who—'

'The attacker? Why?' Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been this.

'That's what I wanted to know—why he would do that. Wesley, he saw something. We both s-saw something. I needed to know if it was the same something.'

'And?' He was feeling increasingly perturbed. He was not liking where this was going.

'It was. Wesley, I know you're going to find this hard to accept, but—'

...

Cordelia and Gunn stood on the stairs, looking down at all the people in the lobby. 'Isn't this nuts?' Cordelia grinned.

'Can you blame 'em?' Gunn asked her, 'wouldn't you follow her to the ends of the earth - never mind to a fancy ass art deco hotel?'

'I'd follow her anywhere.' She scanned around the crowd, 'hey look - Fred's back,' she pointed. Gunn looked over in the direction she was indicating, seeing Fred and Wesley talking by the counter, heads together - looking very serious.

...

'Rotting flesh?' Wesley said, 'really?'

'You don't believe me,' Fred sighed. Maybe Doyle had been right, after all - she needed to find a way to get out of the lobby, get back to him. She only hoped he would have hotwired a car and then waited for her. She didn't want to be stuck out on her own.

'If you say you saw it - I believe you.'

Sweet, glorious relief swept through her. She smiled. Doyle was wrong. Wesley might not be able to see the truth for himself, but his love for her was strong enough that he'd take her words on faith. 'He told me not to tell anyone- but I knew if I just came to you…'

'You did the right thing,' he assured her.

There was a sudden sussuration of excitement and then the crowds began to cheer. The pair of them turned their heads to look. The woman - flanked by Angel and Groo - had come out on the balcony to greet them all. Fred looked away - disgusted by the truth she could now see. 'You'll help me?' she asked Wesley.

'Of course I'll help you - wait here.' He left her side and walked over to the steps, where Gunn and Cordy were standing. She watched him talk to them - and then all three turned and stared at her. Their faces were hard and cold - and the relief she had felt was replaced with an icy dread in the pit of her stomach. She watched as Wesley continued up the stairs, to whisper to Angel and Groo - whilst Gunn made his way over to Lorne and spoke to him. Cordy stayed where she was, staring down at Fred - the coldness in her face being slowly replaced with anger.

Fred began to back away. She slipped between the crowds - letting the gathered masses shield her from Cordelia's watchful eyes - and reached the weapons cabinet, where she grabbed a crossbow and a dagger. Wesley, Angel and Groo stopped talking at the moment - and all turned to stare at her. She pointed the crossbow up at the woman, who stood between them. 'I'm sorry,' she said, and pulled the trigger.


	72. Shiny Happy People: Part Four

_Part Four_

The crossbow bolt flew through the air, over the heads of the crowd and up towards the woman. Fred's aim had been true. But - before the arrow could hit home - Angel launched himself in front of the woman, and the bolt hit him in the shoulder instead. He and the Groosalug jumped over the balustrade and landed in the lobby. Groo helped Angel pull the bolt from his shoulder - and then they headed towards Fred. Wesley ran back down the stairs, and Cordelia joined him as he passed her.

It was Lorne who got to her first - he was the closest - 'Fred - what are you crazy?' But Fred only threw the crossbow aside and pulled the dagger instead. She grabbed hold of Lorne, twisting him so he was held against her like a shield, and held the knife at his throat. 'Fred!' he yelled in alarm.

'Don't come near me!' Fred shouted at the team members who were bearing down on her. She began to back away, towards the front door, keeping Lorne held firmly in place. The crowds parted to let her through - silent and watchful.

'Put the knife down, Fred,' Angel said to her, his hands raised, palms out, trying to talk her down.

'I'll kill him!' she dug the dagger a little closer into Lorne's flesh.

'You don't know what you're doing,' Gunn said to her, also creeping towards her, trying to keep his voice low and soothing.

But she wasn't going to be soothed. The evil was amongst them and she was the only one here who could see it. Her eyes were wild and frightened. 'I'll do it, Charles!' She pressed even harder with the knife, pricking into Lorne's neck. 'Easy kiddo, huh?' Lorne said - everyone was still using those soothing tones. Trying to sound reasonable, trying to talk her down like she was the one who had gone crazy. It was them who had lost their minds - lost their freewill to the monster up on the balcony - unable to see its true face. 'There's no where you can go, Fred,' the monster said. Fred looked up - her face creasing in horror and disgust, once more, as she saw the decaying flesh and the oozing blood - and the maggots - oh god the maggots. 'My love will follow you everywhere.'

She was close enough to the door, now. She needed to get away. She threw Lorne away from herself, launching him towards the other team members so they all collapsed into a heap and - whilst they struggled to right themselves - she turned and fled through the doors.

But then - sweet relief - Doyle was on the road outside, the engine of the Plymouth idling. She jumped into the passenger seat and he glanced at her. 'Run into some trouble?' he asked.

'Yeah … let's get out of here.'

Doyle nodded and pulled away from the kerb - and started to head towards the city limits.

...

Inside the lobby, the team made for the weapons cabinet - thinking to follow Fred and capture her, bring her back. But the woman stopped them. 'Let her go,' she said, 'now is not the time.' She turned and looked around at all the loving people who had come there to worship her, just to be close with her - the ones who saw what she offered and took it gladly, with both hands. 'We are all gathered here in peace,' she said to them all, 'let's not let her take that away from us.'

* * *

They drove on, right through the darkness. Doyle didn't know where they were going, or what they were going to do when they got there - but they needed to put some space between themselves and the hotel - and their friends. Beside him, Fred sat in the passenger seat - in an almost catatonic state. Tears streamed down her face - but she said nothing. Doyle had tried to break the silence a few times - but it had always been futile, wherever she was, Fred was far from him right now and he couldn't reach her.

As the dawn broke across the horizon, Fred finally spoke. 'Pull over,' she said. He looked at her, 'what for?'

'I can't … we can't just keep driving. Pull over.'

The silent tears were still coursing down her face and, though he wanted to keep going - get the hell out of town and not stop until they had reached somewhere that felt safe - he couldn't bring himself to argue with her. Not when she seemed so broken and alone. But once he had pulled off from the road and killed the engine, Fred began to cry in earnest; great wracking sobs that made her whole body judder. Her face was red and crumpled up and the tears streamed from her eyes. Doyle looked awkward. He knew he had always been Fred's least favourite member of the team, the one she trusted the least - that if she could have chosen anyone to go on the lamb with, she would have chosen him last of all - and he didn't know how much his comfort would be welcome. Or even what comfort he could give. But, as she wept so hard she shuddered and shook, he knew he could not leave her like that - and do nothing. Still a little uncomfortable, a little hesitant, he shuffled to the edge of the driver's seat - closer to the passenger side - and then wrapped his arms around her. She collapsed onto his chest, still sobbing, and he held her close; stroking her hair and murmuring soothing noises. He held her that way for what seemed like hours, and watched the sun rise - spreading its rosy fingers across the landscape, driving back the shadows. And as she cried, and he held her, he wondered if what Stoller had said was true: if Fred really had been called, if she now had a sacred duty to stop that monster and save Angel and the team - save the world. And he wondered - a little guiltily - why, if Fred was called to this task, why it couldn't have been his Cordelia who was the chosen one?

* * *

Cordelia shut the basement door behind her. It was dark - but she didn't want anyone to hear her talking to him. 'Are you happy now?' she asked out loud. There was no reply. 'What - you can't even be bothered to answer me? Tell me, Doyle - are you happy now you've made Fred like you?' There was still no reply. She frowned and started down the steps. 'Fred's gone mad,' she said, 'she just tried to kill…' she shook her head, unable to believe that anyone could ever try to harm that most glorious goddess. It hurt Cordy just to think of that woman coming to harm. 'I don't know how you did it,' she said, still walking down the steps, 'but somehow you turned Fred against her, made Fred like you - unable to love her - unable to see that all she wants is to love us back. What's wrong with you?' She asked, her voice became a pained cry, as she felt the tug in her heart - the loss of Doyle, now he was evil, unreachable. She wanted him back. She wanted to share the love of the woman with him, wanted to bask in her glory and perfection together. 'All she wants is for you to love her. Why can't you just love her? Why can't you accept her love? She's your daughter!' She laughed in disbelief at the honour that had been bestowed on Doyle - _Doyle_ of all people - and he was so clearly unworthy of it. 'To be her father is the greatest achievement you've ever had - other men would kill - would die - to be as lucky as you - and you won't even love her. You must be dead inside, Doyle, and now you've made Fred dead inside, too - and I want you to tell me if you're …' She reached the bottom of the stairs, and saw the door of the cage hanging wide open. Doyle wasn't there anymore. The cage was empty. Fred had let him out.

* * *

The crowd had left - reluctantly - but the woman had promised them they could return tomorrow - that they could love and honour each other the next day, but for now they needed to return home - love and honour their families. She now sat on the round sofa, Gunn, Wes, Lorne and Groo surrounded her. They were struggling to come to terms with Fred's betrayal.

'I can't believe Fred's evil,' Wesley was saying, His voice was heavy. He had loved Fred - for so long - loved everything she was. He remembered when he first saw her - a strange, wild girl, alone in Pylea - saving him and Gunn from the beast that Angel had become. And he remembered her only six months later - dressed up for the ballet, though the memory of that night always caused a twist of pain in his gut, she had looked like a princess - a vision of loveliness. He remembered how, once the betrayal had happened - and the others all knew, Fred was the only who had come to him, spoken to him. She was the only one who let herself remember that they had loved him, that he was a part of them. She was gentle and kind and loving and oh so smart … and completely, undeniably evil. Twisted in her soul - a blackness where he thought her gentle heart had been. How could this be?

'I should have seen this coming,' Gunn said. Lorne shook his head and patted the street fighter on the shoulder. 'Nothing like a homicidal maniac to put a dampener on an impromptu spiritual gathering,' he said.

'What they saw tonight,' the woman said to them, 'it's not what I would have wanted, but now they all understand the reality of what hatred can do to a person.'

Angel walked into the lobby from outside, holding a bouquet of freshly picked flowers - jasmine from the garden. 'The reality is … we need to find Fred,' he said, handing the flowers over to the woman, smiling a little shyly as he gave her a gift. She took them from him gratefully and buried her nose into the bouquet, taking in their fragrance. 'Thank you Angel - their scent - it soothes me.'

'If we leave now, Groo and I can still probably track her,' Angel said. But the woman shook her head, 'I know you're all in great pain. You trusted Fred - and she betrayed you.'

'Forget us,' Gunn got to his feet,'she tried to kill you.'

'And the sadness that brings me is immeasurable.'

'But why didn't I see it?' Angel asked, pacing the floor of the lobby.

'None of us did,' the woman assured him, 'you can't blame yourself.'

Wesley shook his head, still wondering where it had all gone wrong. How Fred had fallen from the garden and down into the dirt. 'The man in the hospital… I'm still shocked she would go to see him.'

'Once he had her there,' Gunn shrugged, trying to hide how much his heart was hurting by the sting of Fred's evil, 'must've monkeyed with her brain somehow.' She had loved the woman - adored her as they all did, there must be some explanation as to how the madman in the hospital had got her to change her mind.

'Perhaps he is a great sorcerer,' the Groosalug suggested, 'perhaps he addled her mind with dark magicks. Made her act in a way that could only bring grief to those she loved.'

The woman smiled, a little sadly. 'I don't suppose even Fred understands why she's so determined to destroy everything we're trying to create.' She narrowed her eyes and hardened her voice, just slightly, 'which makes her even more dangerous.'

The basement door flew open, just then - and Cordelia came tumbling out into the lobby. 'He's gone,' she told them, her voice frantic. 'Doyle. He's gone from the cage. He's escaped. Fred must've let him out. He's behind all this - whatever Fred's doing - he's behind it.'

Everyone stared at her for a long moment - and then Angel broke the silence by striding to the weapons cabinet and pulling out his broadsword. 'That settles it - then. We have to kill them both,' he said, 'guys - grab weapons. We need to track them - and stop them. Put an end to this, once and for all. There's no other way.'

But the woman stopped them from hunting, once more. 'It may come to that,' she told them, 'For Fred. First we must try to reach her, help her, get to the root of the hate that has infected her heart.' She shook her head sadly, 'but if she is beyond our love - then we may have to take drastic action. Doyle, though. Never. He is my father. He is above all retribution and must never be harmed. We need to find him and lock him up, again - keep him safe, keep him close - until he can accept his place in the new world, and the honour that bestows upon him.'

'So, how are we going to find them?' Cordelia asked, 'they have a head start - Doyle will have stolen a car. It's what he does.'

'Don't be afraid,' the woman smiled around at them all. 'We'll find them - but tomorrow will be easier than today. We'll have eyes everywhere.'

* * *

Fred and Doyle sat at the counter of a greasy diner. An old guy in a paper hat handed them a breakfast each of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns. Doyle dug in his jacket pocket and handed over the money. Fred took a sip of her coffee. 'You guys look like you had a rough night,' the guy said, looking between them - at their rumpled clothes and dishevelled hair, and the tearstains which still marked Fred's cheeks.

'Best not to ask, bud,' Doyle said to him. He gave an awkward glance at Fred, he was still worried about her. She was in pain - not physical, he could cope with that - but she was in a deep pain he didn't understand and he didn't know how to make better. It was like she was grieving - but he didn't know why the loss of the team would hit her so hard - hurt so much worse for her than for him. After all, he had lost Cordelia. Again.

There was a small television up in the corner of the diner - and, as Doyle and Fred sat quietly drinking their coffee - the commercial break ended and the daytime news show came back on. The television presenter was sat on a couch - beaming - 'Welcome back. Chef Arnold Michske will join us later, but right now, we have the most amazing surprise.' The two of them didn't pay her any attention. Doyle dug his fork into his hashbrowns - letting the voice of the presenter go over his head. 'Please join me in welcoming a very special visitor: Jasmine!'

'Good morning, Los Angeles!' They both looked up when they heard the woman's voice. And there she was - sitting in the T.V studio - being beamed into every home in the city. She wore a sprig of jasmine flowers in her hair … but for Doyle and Fred it didn't hide the rot and the decay and the blood. They stared at each other in horror - and then looked back up at the small screen.

'Thank you for inviting me. This is a special day.'

Behind the counter, the guy in the paper hat got down on his knees - and stared up at the screen, transfixed.

'We want to know everything about you,' the t.v presenter was saying. 'Start at the beginning.'

Doyle twisted in his seat, as he heard chairs scrape back - and he saw other customers getting to their feet and then kneeling in front of the television. People were coming in off the street, as well, drawn by the siren song of her voice. They too knelt on the diner floor and gazed lovingly up at the woman with jasmine flowers in her hair. Fred stared at them all in disbelief.

'Trish, in the beginning, before the time of man, great beings walked the Earth. Untold power emanated from all quarters—the seeds of what would come to be known as good and evil. Yet there was a balance. But the shadow stretched…'

With a glance at each other, Fred and Doyle got to their feet and began to back out of the diner. But once out on the street they saw that the street was empty. Cars were parked - abandoned - at the side of the road, and their drivers were flocking into stores that had televisions. On the sidewalk, one man knelt before a television in a store window - watching the woman - Jasmine - tell her tale. A small congregation began to gather there, worshipping in front of the little screen. Fred and Doyle gazed around. The whole street was abandoned - save for the people kneeling to honour Jasmine. She had gone on the airwaves. She had taken the entire city. There was nowhere left for them to run.

* * *

**A/N next episode is 'The Magic Bullet'**


	73. The Magic Bullet: Part One

**The Magic Bullet**

_Part One_

The perfect disc of the sun rode high in the powder blue of the cloudless sky. It radiated heat into the city, the way the people below radiated love and joy - the crystal perfection of the light shining onto the distilled wonder of the world below. The goodness, the beauty, the happiness - the whole world was clean and new and … perfect, and the warm sun in the flawless sky reflected that sheer bliss and contentment right back at the shiny, happy people.

The whole city was out, glorying in the wonder. A couple drove down the road in their Cadillac, the breeze ruffling their hair, as they laughed in joy. A little girl rode her bike down the road, not having to worry about swerving traffic - all cars would slow for her, pull round her and wave as they passed. An ice cream man called all the children in the park over to his fan and started handing out free cones. The smile on his face was big and broad, matching the rapture of his heart. He could feel it expanding his chest, as he gave away the ice cream and the children smiled their thanks and left holding their cones. This was love. Perfect love.

Two women walked out of the mall, frappucinos in hand, and stopped at the crosswalk. A man stopped his car at the crossing and gave them a smile and waved them across. They beamed back at him, waving their thanks and - as the stream of pedestrians filed past his car - he leaned his head back on the seat and smiled to himself. It felt good to do a kindness for others - even a kindness so small. It just made the world a better place, made him a better person - he was doing his part to make this world good enough for -

BAM. He jumped as something slammed into the side of his car - and turned to look. He got a fleeting glimpse of a frightened face of a woman peering in at him - and then she was gone.

...

'Come on, love,' Doyle hauled Fred away, from the car, helping her find her footing, and dragged her back onto the kerbside. They were being hunted - and didn't have time to stop. 'They're gonna catch us,' Fred gasped, stumbling along as he pulled her along with him, 'we need to find a way to throw them off the scent.'

'Any ideas?'

...

Wesley and Gunn ran through the plaza of the shopping complex, coming to a stand still and staring around. There were swarms of people crowding round them, obscuring the two dangerous heretics in their midst - making them hard to find.

'OK, now I'm getting mad,' Gunn said.

'We'll find them,' Wesley assured him.

'Do a whole lot worse than find them.' They both scanned around the crowd again - breathing heavily. They had been running for a long time - and the exertion was beginning to take its toll. 'There!' Wesley said - spotting a young woman walking away from them. She had long dark hair and was wearing the red, hooded sweatshirt they had last seen Fred wearing. 'Where's Irish got to?' Gunn asked.

'Maybe they split up - to throw us off the scent.'

They ran up to the woman and seized hold of her, spinning her around. The woman beamed up at them - too full of love and joy to be annoyed at being accosted. She wasn't Fred. 'Your jacket?' Wesley said to her, looking confused.

Her smile became even broader. 'A woman just gave it to me. She said Jasmine wanted me to have it. Isn't that sweet? Isn't Jasmine the best?'

'Best of the best'

'She's so wonderful.' The two men spoke at the same time, their faces both wore identical smiles - to match the woman's own adoring smile, as they all thought about their mocha goddess.

But they hadn't the time or luxury to dwell on Jasmine's wonder - and the glorious way she made them feel. They had a job to do, and they needed to do it if they wanted to make Jasmine happy. 'We should split up,' Gunn suggested, 'she can't be far.' They went their separate ways, dodging through the crowds on the plaza, continuing their hunt.

...

Beneath their feet, in the sewer tunnels, Fred and Doyle stood still - listening to the conversation going on just metres above their heads. Doyle had his arms wrapped around Fred - and they were both working to keep their breath shallow, and slow the thunderous pounding of their hearts - as if there was any chance the men who hunted them might hear them down there. Once they heard Wes and Gunn move away from the manhole cover - they looked at each other, Doyle dropped his arms from around Fred's waist, and they turned and walked down the sewer pipe - not knowing where they would go next.

* * *

Cordelia and Lorne sat behind the counter in the lobby - there was a long line of people snaking through the space, so much so that they had had to uncover the velvet ropes from the hotel's store rooms and put them out to keep the people in an orderly fashion. And the people just did not stop coming - and they all wanted the same thing. It was getting exhausting.

'I'm awfully sorry,' Lorne said to the customer speaking to him, 'I wish there was something I could do, really - next?' The customer shuffled away and the next one stepped up to speak with the green demon.

Beside Lorne, Cordelia was rolling her eyes. 'I get it - you want Jasmine. We all do. You wanna stay near Jasmine - well there's only 68 rooms in the hotel, buddy - and some of those were taken long before our flower scented saviour turned up to bless us. There's nothing I can do for you - move on. Next!'

Lorne turned to her, a slight frown on his face, 'You OK sugarbun?' he asked.

'Customer service drives me crazy.'

'I had noticed you were putting your own unique spin on it, sweetiebear. What's eating you?'

She sighed. 'I've not seen Jasmine for hours - and when she's gone - when I'm away from her…'

'It's like your whole heart is empty?'

'Who would ever choose to live like this?' she asked. 'Why are Fred and Doyle rejecting her?'

'Oh there it is,' Lorne smiled, sympathetically. 'It's not just the divine Ms. J you're missing - it's the divine Mr. D, as well?'

'Doyle is a heretic, he rejects Jasmine's love,' Cordelia said firmly, 'he hurts her - and I hate him for it. It's as simple as that.'

'If I know you and the littlest green dreamboat, nothing is as ever as simple as that. You'll love him until the apocalypse comes and then keep on loving him some more.'

'He isn't worthy of my love. I already knew that. I should have remembered. He just keeps sucking me in.'

'With _those_ eyes? Can't say I blame you.'

'Not any more,' she shook her head, determined. Her voice was like steel. 'I see him for what he is, now. His heart is empty. His soul is dead. And he chooses to hurt Jasmine - his own daughter. He's a monster.'

'Fish gotta swim, bird's gotta fly, Cara Mia - and you're gonna love one man 'til you die. You just need to find a way to come to terms with the fact that that man is a scum sucking hollowed out Judas who I'd stab through the heart for his treachery, if sweet lady J hadn't given us specific orders to take him alive.'

'Scum sucking, hollowed out Judas - I sure do know how to pick 'em.'

'_Excuse me?'_ A frustrated voice cut through their conversation. The next customer, standing by the counter, had got fed up of waiting for service.

'_What?'_ Cordelia asked, 'Can't you see we're talking?'

'Am I too late?' the customer asked, 'for a room?' Cordelia rolled her eyes and tutted - and Lorne took over the customer relations. 'Yeah, 'fraid so, Buckaroo. Singles, suites, even the mouse holes are triple-booked. I got pilgrims pitching pup-tents in the parking lot. Try saying that three times fast and you'll get a sense of the day we're having.'

The man took his keys from his pocket and put them on the counter top. 'I'll give you my house if I can stay. It's nice. There's a pool.'

Cordelia's eyes lit up at the offer, but Lorne only chuckled - and smiled his sympathetic smile. 'Sorry, it doesn't work that way around here, partner.' He pushed the keys back across the counter. Cordelia tutted. 'Jasmine doesn't want your things, and neither do I,' Lorne finished up.

'I wouldn't mind a -' Cordelia started to say. But the man talked over her, telling his story of how he had found Jasmine and how wonderful she was. 'I just want to be near her, you know. Saw her on the news last night. And I wanted to say thanks for making me feel—' he choked off his sentence, too overcome with emotion to continue. Cordelia stopped looking annoyed and started to smile - as she too thought about the way Jasmine made her feel - how much she owed their new goddess. Lorne was smiling too. 'Hey - preaching to the choir,' he said. 'I thought Our Lady of the Perpetual Sea Breeze was the real deal until the Divine Miss J walked right through that door and right into my ass—' He saw the look of confusion - almost horror, at what sounded like his terrible blasphemy. 'Which is where my heart is...physiologically,' he explained, awkwardly. 'I could show you an x-ray.'

He was saved from having to explain any more, by a sudden intake of breath from the gathered crowds - and a susurration of joyous excitement. Jasmine had appeared on the stairs, Angel and the Groosalug either side of her. She was coming out to meet them all, to walk amongst them. Behind the counter, Cordelia's face had lit up in radiant happiness, as she felt all the loneliness, the bitterness over Doyle and all the emptiness that had been sucking inside her chest, like a freezing void, just melt away - now that Jasmine was so close.

The man who had been talking to Lorne turned to get his first glimpse of Jasmine, in the flesh. She took his breath away. She was everything. He stood rooted to the spot, feeling her love and blessing just wash over him. Lorne smiled and leaned across the counter. 'Don't be shy, Slim Jim. Go get some of that gorgeous goodness.'

...

'Thank you all for coming,' Jasmine stood at the foot of the stairs and smiled around in welcome at all her worshippers - feeling their love and adoration beaming out towards her. She smiled. The crowds parted to let her through and she began to walk among them, keeping Angel and Groo with her, the whole time.

She stopped by a heavily pregnant woman and rested her hand on the baby bump. '_Your child will lead a healthy and loving life,' _she said to pregnant lady, in Mandarin. The woman's smile grew wide with relief and pleasure as she heard these words, she bowed her head and gabbled her thanks to Jasmine. Jasmine nodded back and walked on through the crowd.

'How did you do that?' Angel asked her, sounding impressed.

'Mandarin's not so tough when you've been around a zillion years.'

'No, I mean how is it that you always know exactly what a person needs to hear?'

She gave a graceful shrug of her elegant shoulders, 'you just look into their hearts.' She came face to face with an elderly man with an enormous moustaches and her loving smile grew even broader. 'And sometimes it's right on their face. _Senor,_' she said to the old man, '_your moustache provides you great strength and dignity,' _she said in Spanish_. _

Tears of happiness welled up in the old man's eyes. 'Gracias,' he said to her, nodding his humble thanks, 'muchas gracias.'

Jasmine walked on through the room, smiling around at everyone - they all cleared a path for her. 'My love is all around you,' she said to them all, and again there was the excited murmuring, the joyous susurration rippling out through the crowd as they basked in the wonder of her presence and the glory of her words.

At that moment, the front door opened and Wes and Gunn slipped inside. Angel spotted them, his eyes locked with Wesley's across the crowded lobby - but the watcher only shook his head. They had had no luck. He turned to Jasmine, 'will you excuse me a moment? Groo - stay with her, keep her safe.'

Jasmine laughed - her tinkling silver bell laugh of loveliness, 'keep me safe - from all these people here who love me? Who have come in peace to praise and honour me and each other?'

'Fred praised and honoured you once,' Angel said, 'we don't know what made her turn - and we can never be sure someone else won't get infected. Groo - make sure no one gets too close.'

'Protecting Lady Jasmine is the unparalleled honour of my worthless existence,' the Groosalug assured Angel, and Angel nodded at him and then slipped off to the office to speak with the others.

* * *

Wes and Gunn had gone straight there, and they had been joined by Lorne and Cordy. Angel was the last to arrive. Gunn shook his head at his boss. 'This close,' he said, holding his fingers up to show an inch, 'and then they pulled a Houdini.'

'Doyle's used to running from guys that want to hurt him,' Cordelia said a little bitterly. 'It probably feels good for him to get a bit of practice in - might have been getting a little rusty in recent years.'

'Not to mention Fred,' Angel nodded in agreement. 'Girl kept herself hidden and safe for five years in a demon dimension. When it comes to hiding - and sliding out of sticky situations - those two are the team champions. But we'll catch them.'

'Any ideas on how we go about rooting out our two shadow lurking experts?' Lorne asked, 'so we can plunge a knife into their cold, dead hearts?'

'No,' Wesley was quick to correct him, 'Jasmine wants them alive.'

'Yeah, why is that again?'

'Fred needs to stay alive until we can find out why she rejected Jasmine's love,' Angel told the empath demon.

'And Doyle is Jasmine's father,' Cordelia pointed out, 'you can't just kill the father of a goddess. He's important. Sacred. Even if he isn't worthy to even speak her name with his lying tongue.'

'I know it, sugar,' Lorne said heavily, 'I just don't understand how anyone can reject our lady of goodness. Why would anyone reject that perfect love?'

'Well, Fred's got a history of rejecting love,' Gunn muttered, his voice was bitter.

'Whatever their reasons are,' Angel told the group, 'we need to find them, so Jasmine can straighten them out.'

...

They left the office. Jasmine caught sight of them, from between the crowds of worshippers - and noted their grim expressions. They had had no luck in locating her father - or the apostate he had managed to lure away from Jasmine's perfect love. Her smile dimmed, but only for a moment. She rallied herself, making her smile bigger and brighter than ever; more loving, more alluring, more gentle and more kind. She chose a young woman from out of the crowd, 'would you like to come with me?' she asked. The young woman trembled in happiness, nodding her head in ecstatic disbelief - unable to believe she had been chosen above all others. Jasmine looked around - and then selected the man who had tried to give Lorne his house - the one with the pool. 'And you, my friend, will you join us?'

'Yes,' he nodded - his eyes blurred with tears, once more - his voice choked with happiness. 'Thank you.'

Jasmine turned to the crowd, 'bless you all for coming,' she said to them - and then she led her chosen companions up the stairs and away from lobby.

...

Over at the office door, Gunn watched them go with jealous eyes. 'You think she'll ever choose us?' he asked Wesley.

'If we're lucky,' the watcher replied, 'but not before we find Fred and Doyle.'

* * *

'You really think this guy'll have somethin' more for us, today?' Doyle asked as he pushed open the door to the 'Magic Bullet Books' store. It had the tagline 'everything THEY don't want you to know,' painted on it. The guy who ran the place had been a serious paranoid - his blank, staring eyes had given the Irishman the heebiejeebies when they were last here. 'We need to keep trying,' Fred said, 'keep working the problem 'til we figure it out. At least this guy wasn't a Jasmaniac.'

'Yeah, me, you and him - the last 3 sane people in L.A. If he's on our side - what does that say about our side?'

But Fred only shushed him, as they approached the counter. They needed info from this guy, he lived and breathed conspiracy theories and mind control. Whacked out and far fetched as most of them were, he knew more theory than Fred and Doyle did about what they were facing.

The man looked up as they got to the counter. His eyes were still blank. Doyle shuddered - but tried not to let on. 'Um - hi' Fred said, smiling brightly- though her lower lip was wobbling and her voice was trembling. The pair of them had been under a lot of pressure the last few days - being hunted, never feeling safe, never knowing when they might meet someone who would give them up to Angel and the team. 'You probably don't remember us.'

'Three days ago. Mass hypnosis. You wondered if it was possible.' He wasn't rude - but there was certainly none of the friendly, joyous smiling from him that was going on outside his door. The pair on the run both felt themselves relax.

'We read those books,' Fred gestured between her and Doyle, 'some whacko theories by the way. All of the mass hypnosis theories seemed highly flawed to me…'

'Keepin' it on topic,' Doyle reminded her, 'we're not publishin' a paper for Scientific America, here.'

'Oh - right. Anyway. What I'm looking for is a type of mind control that could affect everyone across the board.'

'Change what they're seeing - alter their perception on reality. Change the way they feel about it - but everyone at once. Boom. That sorta thing,' Doyle added.

The storekeeper stared at them both. 'I might have a book on that,' he said after a moment's blank staring. His voice was a monotone. He crossed over to the bookshelf and began to scan for the title he needed. Fred read the book jackets over his shoulder. 'Astral Projections. Satan's dictionary,' she exchanged a disbelieving glance with Doyle, before speaking to the clerk again, 'you must get some pretty colourful customers in here.'

'Used to,' he said, his back still turned to her, 'you guys are the only customers I've had since the last time you were here.' He turned back to them, holding up a book which depicted a gruesome crime scene photo on it's jacket. 'Not a huge demand for photo books of serial killer autopsies when you're living in a utopian wonderland,' he said in that same robotic monotone. He cleared his throat, 'know what I mean?'

'Jesus!' Doyle looked away from the book cover in disgust. 'You mean there was a demand for that sort o' creeptastic horror show before? What we're all your customer ghouls or somethin'?'

'People like to look at death. Like to see the worst of what humanity can do,' the man told him. 'For fun - scary fun. But - not lately. Not anymore.'

'That must be hard,' Fred tried to sound sympathetic.

'Are you kidding? It's great! Look at me! I've never been happier.' The pair of them stared at him, hard. He wasn't smiling, he was still blank eyed. They looked at each other - they looked happier than this guy! 'Uh sure, I see it, now,' Fred said, uncertainly, 'you're practically glowy.'

Doyle sniggered, but turned it into a cough.

'I was flicking through the radio the other night,' the man explained to them. 'There's nothing really good on since Art Bell retired. But, uh, ended up listening to this woman talk.'

'Jasmine,' Fred said, her voice was heavy. Her heart was sinking.

'Yeah, you guys too, huh?' The clerk said. 'What a breath of fresh air she is. I listened for almost an hour. I'm a new man. I-I used to be obsessed with mind control. I read everything I could get my hands on.'

'And now you don't believe in it anymore?' Fred asked.

'I believe in it, I just don't worry about it any more.' He walked back to behind the counter. Fred and Doyle looked at each other, again - and the half demon could see the mounting frustration growing on Fred's face. She had been so busy hunting for answers - absolutely brilliant with the ideas she had come up with, the things she had thought of for them to try. Doyle was so glad he had her on side, now. Without her he would never have got out of the cage - never mind started to hunt down leads to put a stop to this all. But, for all her brilliance, this was proving to be another dead end. No matter what avenues Fred tried, it always seemed like Jasmine was always a step ahead, closing them off.

She walked over to the counter and leaned on it - getting right into the clerk's face. 'So, you don't worry that it's possible for someone to send out a biological or electronic trigger that effectively overrides your own sense of ideals and values, and replaces them with an alternative coercive agenda that reduces you to little more than a mindless meat puppet?' She gabbled.

'Uh - once more at a pace normal people can think at?' Doyle asked. She sighed and looked back at him, 'something is using either biological or electronic mind control to brainwash the entire population into doing and thinking exactly what that something wants and effectively deleting the free will of the people it enslaves,' she said more slowly.

'Or right - I knew that. Got y'.'

The man looked between them both and shook his head in amazement. 'Wow. And people used to think I was paranoid. I mean, don't get me wrong. I still got the implants in my head. C.I.A. is still listening in. It just doesn't bother me anymore. Instead, I—I beam Jasmine's love up to their satellite, you know? Share the love with those M.K.-Ultra bastards.'

'That'll teach 'em,' Fred said, sarcastically.

The clerk stared at the two of them for a long time, looking between them like something didn't quite make sense - but then his expression became one of sudden realisation. 'Hey, now I get it!'

'You do?' Doyle asked.

'Yeah I know what you're doing.' He opened up the drawer beneath the counter and began to root through it. 'What we're…?' The man pulled out a pistol and Doyle immediately cut himself off and took a step back man, 'hey … man…' Fred's eyes went wide. But the clerk paid them no attention. He put the gun on the desk and then took out a yoyo, also discarded, and then finally a book - which he held up to show them. It was entitled 'making mind control work for you.'

'You wanna fight fire with fire,' the man said to them, 'make sure the government and the other savages learn about Jasmine's love.'

'Right - that's exactly right,' Fred played along - trying to hide the wobble of nerves in her voice. 'Why should we be the only shiny, happy people?'

'Yeah, right,' Doyle caught on and nodded along, 'we gotta share that good sweetness with the world. We just don't know how to do it … that's where you come in, bud - you and your … expertise.'

But the man only shook his head - and looked at them pityingly. 'We don't need the evil tools of "the man",' he made airquotes with his fingers, 'when we have "the wo-man".' He airquoted again. Fred and Doyle shared another exasperated look. 'We need to trust that Jasmine's love will reach the rest of the world, just like it reached us,' he finished up explaining.

'Oh happy day,' Fred replied, through gritted teeth.

* * *

Angel and the Groosalug made their way through the sewer tunnels - searching for the renegade pair. 'They have been down here,' Groo said, 'His Majesty's scent, it is most particular.'

'Petrichor,' Angel nodded, 'it's a Brachen demon thing. The tide washing powder and whisky is pure Doyle, though.'

'They rested here for a while,' The Groosalug said, stopping in one particular spot, 'they were tired - and afraid.'

'They're afraid of us?' Angel wondered, 'because they think we might hurt them? If only they knew, Jasmine doesn't want to hurt them, she wants to love them.'

'It grieves me that His Majesty does not understand the splendour of my Lady Jasmine, his own child. I would have thought of everyone - a father's love …' Groo shook his head. 'But ever since the Lady Kalimania told me she was carrying our goddess within her, I have come to understand that His Majesty is not the man I always thought he was.'

'The thing with Doyle,' Angel ruminated, 'in the end - he always lets you down. As long as you always remember that, then it's OK. But when you forget it … that's when things get painful.'

'But now the Lady Jasmine has put an end to all pain, all sorrow.'

'We are so blessed to live in Jasmine's sight.' Angel stopped - and smiled, he closed his eyes as he felt something wash over him. The Groosalug had done the same thing. 'She wants us back at the hotel,' they said at the same time.

* * *

They arrived back at the hotel and headed straight up to Jasmine's suite of rooms. They found her ensconced in there with the rest of the team - looking over a recording of one of her appearances on local television. 'I sound like the prologue to one of those movies about magical dwarves,' she laughed, listening to herself tell the tales of the origin of the world, and her place in it. 'Hobbits,' Gunn corrected, 'and you watch movies?'

'I adore movies.' Then she smiled up at the two returning champions, 'you're back,' she said to them.

'You called us,' Angel said to her.

'I do not understand,' Groo's brow was furrowed, 'how we were able to know that you wanted us here, in your divine presence, when we were so far away.'

'We felt it,' Angel explained, 'felt your call.'

'We're all becoming connected,' Jasmine told them. 'And now that we're all here, I want to test that connection. We are going to find Fred - and my father.'

'We have been tracking his Majesty for you all this time, high one,' Groo told her. But she shook her head a little, 'this is different,' she explained. 'There's going to be no more running around town. We're going to use our love - the love the people of this city have for me, to find those two renegades. But I need us all to join hands. I can't do this alone. Not yet.'

The group all stood in a circle, holding hands with one another. Cordelia was sandwiched between Jasmine and Angel - squeezing their hands tightly, as she did everything she could to follow Jasmine's instructions; everything she could to bring Doyle back home.

'Close your eyes,' Jasmine told them, 'and picture them both. I want you to picture my father - picture Doyle, his brown leather jacket, the way his hair sticks out on end when he runs his hand through it, the green of his eyes.' Cordelia couldn't help it - she began to smile as she conjured the image of the Irishman in her mind's eye - even though he kept on breaking her heart, though he was an apostate and a worthless traitor, she couldn't stop a goofy, dreamy smile from spreading across her face as she pictured his smile, the dimple that appeared in his cheek when he gave her his most roguish grin - and the way his eyes would twinkle as he did it.

'And think about him with Fred, think about her face, her big brown eyes, her long, brown hair. Think about what they look like together; two dark haired people, the same height, maybe they look scared, maybe they look a little unkempt from their days on the run. Try and picture them both. Concentrate. Where are you Fred? Where are you Doyle? I'm looking for you.'

* * *

'When we get back inside - we can figure out what to do from there,' Doyle was saying, as he and Fred made their way up to the counter at the motel they were hiding in. It was a different one to the one Doyle had been living in all year - they had figured that would be the first place the team would look for them.

'Yeah,' Fred agreed, 'once no one can see us … 219,' she said to the man at the desk. He handed the room key over to the pair of them and they walked away. As they passed an old lady, who was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette, her head suddenly snapped round - following them with her eyes. They didn't notice.

* * *

Jasmine stood in the circle, holding Cordelia and Lorne's hand, either side, and smiled. 'I see them,' she said to the team, 'I see Fred and my father.'

* * *

'Bein' out in the open is makin' me jumpy,' Doyle said, as they walked up the external stairs to their room.

'If they figure out where we are - bein' trapped in an enclosed space isn't gonna make you feel a whole lot better,' Fred pointed out. They reached the walkway and headed down to their room. As they passed room 217, a man peered out of the window - staring at them intently. They didn't notice.

They reached 219 and Doyle leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets, as Fred put the key in a lock. Further down the walkway, another door opened and a couple came tumbling out, giggling and kissing. The two fugitives glanced at them, disturbed by the noise and, as they did, the couple's heads snapped towards the pair of them and stared. They began to walk towards the two of them. 'Uh - Fred…'

'Retreat.' She began to walk away, back towards the stairs - quickly, but not running, not yet. Not wanting to draw attention to the fact she was running away until it became unavoidable. Doyle hurried after her. They passed room 217 - and the man came outside. 'Run!' Doyle yelled, seeing him, and - throwing all pretence to the winds - they hared back down the steps. The woman smoking her cigarette grabbed Fred's arm, once they reached the bottom. Fred shrieked and pulled away from her, freeing herself. The woman made another grab at the pair of them. Doyle swung his fist at her - his knuckles connected with the lady's jaw, and she fell to the ground. 'I just punched an old lady!' he said, staring down at her - his eyes wide. But there was no time for his guilt. Fred grabbed his arm and pulled him away, and they ran out of the forecourt of the motel and out onto the street. They ran past a man sitting in his car - who narrowed his eyes, put his car into drive, and began to follow them.

* * *

'There's nowhere to run, my dears,' Jasmine said to them, from the circle - her eyes still closed. 'My love is all around you.'

* * *

They were running at full tilt now - racing down the street, no clue where they were headed, but feeling all eyes on them. Across the street a man was pouring gasoline into the tank of his car, he followed them with his eyes. The man driving behind them was also keeping his eyes on them the whole time. He didn't see the other car and ploughed straight into it.

Fred and Doyle screamed and fell to the floor as, behind them, the collision caused the gasoline to ignite and the two cars exploded in a fireball. The driver got out of his car - he was engulfed in flames - but that didn't stop him from stumbling his way towards the pair of apostates cowering on the floor - and speaking to them with Jasmine's words. 'Don't be afraid, Fred, Doyle, don't be afraid.'


	74. The Magic Bullet: Part Two

_Part Two_

The gang stood in their circle, hands joined and eyes closed, as Jasmine searched for the two prodigal team members - feeling the connection to all who loved her in the city and using that to see through their eyes. She saw the pair of them cowering on the floor, staring up in horror and fright - and heard the words her loyal follower, whoever he was, was saying to them. '_Don't be afraid, Fred, Doyle, don't be afraid.'_ Her hand began to grow red and smoke began to billow out.

'Ouch!' Cordelia yelled and dropped Jasmine's burning hand, breaking the connection. She clutched at her own hand, rubbing it, and staring at the woman beside her. Jasmine's eyes rolled and her knees buckled under the strain of the search. She collapsed towards the floor, but both Angel and Groo were there to catch her before she fell.

'Easy, easy,' Angel said to her, he twisted his head, 'Lorne, chair!' The green demon grabbed them a chair and Angel and the Groosalug helped Jasmine into it. She sat in the chair, clutching her hand - just like Cordelia. 'What happened?' Wesley asked.

'Her hand got hot,' Cordelia said, 'it started to smoke and everything.' She went over and sat on the arm of the chair, 'may I?' she asked, taking Jasmine's hand. She inspected her palm, 'this is a bad burn,' she said to the goddess, 'but I can help - Wes, there should be a first aid kit in the bathroom, grab it for me? And a damp cloth - cool water.'

'There's really no need,' Jasmine replied, smiling up at Cordelia, 'I'm fine, I'm grateful for your concern, but I'm fine.'

'I can fix this,' Cordy told her, 'please let me fix this.'

Jasmine reached out, with her uninjured hand, and stroked Cordelia's face, 'so gentle, so caring,' she said. 'Your heart is the biggest and kindest I've ever known.'

'And it belongs entirely to you,' Cordelia told her. Wesley returned with the items Cordy had asked for, looking flustered and worried, 'is she OK?'

'I'm fine, I just need to rest.' Jasmine tried to assure them. But Cordelia had opened up the first aid kit and taken out the aloe vera, and was smearing the paste across Jasmine's burned and blistered skin.

'What happened to you?' Gunn asked Jasmine, as Cordelia finished with the cream and applied the damp cloth.

'I saw them - both of them - clear as day. Clear as I'm seeing you,' Jasmine said. She looked down at her hand, 'though obviously there are some painful kinks that need working out. Thank you Cordelia, that feels much better, it soothes me.' Cordelia beamed with pride and happiness.

'Did they get away?' Lorne asked, 'when the connection was broken?'

'I'm afraid so, but there's no need to worry. Everybody who loves me now knows what they look like. Knows to catch them, knows to call us. There's no place either of them can hide. Alone or together - they are surrounded by my love.'

'If only they were worthy of it,' Cordy muttered to herself, packing up the first aid kit.

'We will find them, we will talk to them, we will make them see the error of their ways and bring them back to my light and my love, Cordelia,' Jasmine assured her.

'What do you want us to do, in the meantime?' Wesley asked.

'You already know.'

'She's right,' Angel said, nodding his head. 'We have a hotel full of people who all have needs.'

'And boy do they like to tell us about them,' Cordy muttered - again under her breath. She hadn't forgotten the madness of being on desk duty.

'They won't have to tell you their needs anymore,' Jasmine assured her, 'I feel it, everything is becoming connected.'

'Are you saying that we're becoming psychic?' Angel asked - remembering the way he and Groo had both received the message in the sewers - without words, without phones - just a sudden knowledge that Jasmine needed them. But the higher power shook her head. That wasn't it. That wasn't what she meant - what she meant was -

'Hot water's gone out on the third floor,' Gunn said all of a sudden.

'And there's a plumber in the lobby who can…' Wesley's eyes widened in astonishment and his voice was filled with surprise and wonder as he finished up, 'help us.'

Jasmine smiled even wider. 'That's what I'm talking about,' she told the team. 'Now I need to rest, focus on healing my hand.' The team nodded and - a little regretfully - turned to leave her. But she stopped at them at the door. 'There's a pair of sisters in the lobby,' she told them. They all nodded as they felt the knowledge of the blonde sisters waiting several floors beneath them. 'The Bailey twins,' Lorne said.

'I'll ask them if they'd like to come up and visit you,' Gunn said to Jasmine, and she nodded at him - looking very happy. 'Exactly what I was thinking. This is only the beginning. No one will ever have to feel lonely again.'

* * *

Fred and Doyle trudged down the road, as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky. They were far away from the crowds and buildings of the city now - out in more open space, up in the hills. The road was deserted - there was nothing but grass and trees on either side of them. They hoped that, with no one around to see them, Jasmine would not be able to locate them. They had talked it over, figured it out - she could somehow see through the eyes of her followers. Whenever they were near people, they were in danger. But, for some reason, she had lost her control over the burning man that had been bearing down on them. He had fallen to the floor, screaming in agony, until the flames consumed him - and the pair of them had taken that opportunity to scramble to their feet and run. Now, hours later, they were out of civilisation - but with nowhere to stay as the night drew in.

They heard the sound of an engine, behind them, and instinctively they both ducked their heads. An SUV drove past them and the pair of them kept their heads low, holding their breath as they waited for it to vanish from sight. It was not meant to be. When the SUV had driven about twenty yards past them it suddenly slammed on its brakes. Doyle and Fred glanced at each other in alarm, realising they had been seen in the rearview mirror. As the car's reverse lights came on, the two of them fled from the roadside - stumbling their way down the hill beside them.

Fred lost her footing and tumbled down, rolling over and over. She could hear Doyle yelling after her - but was unable to stop her fall. The ground beneath her crumbled and collapsed and she landed heavily inside a dark hole, right on top of some kind of small, greenish looking demon. 'Ohh, get off!' she cried - and the pair of them tussled, trying to get away from the other.

She could still hear Doyle blundering around overhead, calling out for her. Still wrestling with the little demon, she saw an axe lying on the ground, nearby, and grabbed hold of it - raising it threateningly. The demon threw his hands up in surrender. 'I'm vegetarian!' it cried.

'With those choppers?' she asked sceptically, looking at his long mandibles.

'OK,' the demon was breathing heavily, 'I eat fish and the occasional vermin. You do believe me don't you?'

'You're still breathing aren't you?'

She heard stumbling footsteps overhead. 'Fred? Darlin'? Where are y'? Are y' hurt?'

She struggled to her feet and stared up out of the hole she had fallen in, 'I'm down here!' she called. 'I'm OK.'

Doyle appeared at the rim of the hole. He looked strangely truncated from this perspective- huge feet and then a tiny little head, far away. He squatted down and peered in, 'did you get hurt, love?'

'A few scrapes,' she looked at her shoulder - 'my shoulder hurts.'

'Hang on.' He lowered himself down into the hole, tumbled to the ground and then straightened up.

'Geez, more humans,' the little demon with the big teeth sighed when he saw Doyle. Doyle glanced at him, frowned, and then went to inspect Fred's injuries. He helped her off with her jacket.

'Don't do that,' the demon said, retreating to a corner - but still watching them. They ignored him, and Doyle gently pulled the material of Fred's shirt down so he could see the extent of her cuts and scrapes. 'Geez - the pair of you should get a room,' the little demon said in disgust.

Fred threatened him with her axe, 'sit in that corner and keep quiet. Any monkey business and I'll chop you down.'

'As long as you guys aren't getting up to monkey business.'

Doyle turned his head and stared at the demon, for a long moment - before shaking his head and looking back at Fred and her injuries. 'it's not too bad,' he assured her. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a bandage and an antiseptic wipe. 'I got stuff to clean it.'

'How come you have that?' Fred asked, sounding surprised. He only shrugged, 'I always carry first aid stuff, in case I come across injured people on patrol - it was my link to Cordy back when she wasn't talking to me … I mean, back when she wasn't talking to me of her own free will.' He ripped open the wipe and began to dab at Fred's cut, she hissed through her teeth as the antiseptic stung, but said nothing. Once it was clean, he stuck the bandage on, and she pulled her shirt back on properly. Then they sat down in the opposite corner to the demon. Doyle rested his head against the craggy sides of the hole and closed his eyes.

The demon stared at them. 'We just gonna sit here like this?' it asked.

'Maybe,' Fred snapped back - she still held the axe in her hand.

'Can you give me a time frame? 'Cause I got a bladder the size of a jujube.'

'Just shut up,' Fred said, 'we got stuff to figure out.'

Doyle pried one bleary eye open, 'we do?' He asked. He sounded like he wanted nothing more than to collapse in that cave and go to sleep for the next forever. But Fred nodded, 'I'm working on some stuff,' she told him, then noticed how weary he looked propped up against the walls. 'I'll tell you when I think I got something,' she said, 'you get some rest.'

* * *

The team had set a podium up in the lobby - and all the worshipping crowds had gathered around it, whilst Wesley and Gunn stood in front of them all and gave their lecture. They had a large photograph of Fred blown up and resting on an easel. 'Consider her armed and dangerous, and quite possibly insane,' Wesley was telling the crowd. 'Don't let her grace and gentle beauty fool you. Winifred Burkle,' he pointed to the photo, 'is a monster. A siren hoping to lure you away from Jasmine and onto the rocks of heresy and destruction.'

'Amen to that,' Gunn nodded.

'And then…' Wesley took the photo of Fred down from the easel, underneath it was an equally large picture of Doyle. 'This man - you should all know. Francis Doyle, goes more commonly by his last name. He is Jasmine's father and as such is under her protection. But - just like Fred - he is evil, cannot be trusted. They are, both of them, creatures of cunning and deceit who will kill us all rather than accept Jasmine's love. But whilst Doyle must be captured, if we are to keep Jasmine safe, he must not be harmed. Always remember, when dealing with him, he is the sacred father of our holy lady - treat him as such - but never let the poison he will whisper infect your mind.'

The crowd all nodded their understanding. There was a murmuring amongst them as they committed the faces of the two apostates to memory, along with the instructions to only kill Fred if necessary - but to take Doyle alive no matter the cost.

'And now,' Wesley said, 'Lorne has a few important announcements and - as I understand it - a very special surprise.' He stepped away from the microphone and collected the pictures of Fred and Doyle, and Lorne stepped up to address the crowd.

'Blessings and moonpies, brethren and sistren,' the green demon greeted the room, grinning around at them all. 'I'll cut right to the chase and start with the hourly Jasmine report. Her royal yumminess is currently resting after a particularly exhausting day. No word yet whether she'll make a drive-by this evening or not.' There was a disappointed muttering amongst the crowd. 'Good news for you third floor faithful: the hot water's back on.' The muttering sounded a little happier. 'OK, and now—and now it's time for that big surprise we've been talking about. Tonight we're gonna try kicking it a little different at fellowship hall because tonight—tonight is open mic night.' The crowd cheered. 'That's right, that's right, love bugs. So anyone who wants to get up here and share their personal joy about good queen Jasmine is more than welcome. So, who wants to get the ball rolling?'

...

Cordelia took to the podium. '_I believe that Jasmine is the future … she'll teach us well and she will lead the way.' _Her voice - as always - was that of a tone deaf bullfrog, but the crowd all cheered when they heard her updated words. They waved their arms and lit their lighters as she foghorned her way through the verse and chorus. '_Because the greatest love of all is happening to me.' _

'It's just so true, you know,' Angel whispered to Gunn. Gunn nodded his head.

'_Learning to love Jasmine is the greatest love of all...'_

_..._

When the applause had died down and Cordelia had taken her bow, a little boy took her place. 'Why I love Jasmine by Lenford Dettweiler,' he read out. 'I love Jasmine because she makes food taste good...'

...

A woman took the mic - but she was too overcome with her love, and she just sobbed and sobbed. The crowd cheered.

...

A metalhead with long blonde hair had taken to the stage. He held his arm up, rock horns on, and led the crowd in a chant: 'Jasmine rocks Jasmine rocks'...

...

Lorne had taken his turn to sing. Someone was accompanying him on an electric guitar. '_Freddie's dead… oh that's what I said...'_

_..._

A deaf woman stood before the crowd, signing her feelings. '_I wish I could be inside Fred's skull,'_ she signed, '_so I could explode her brain and kill her for rejecting Jasmine. Doyle … he has to be kept alive - but I wish I could rip his worthless balls off, he doesn't deserve to be Jasmine's father. He doesn't deserve to be anyone's father. He doesn't deserve to love.'_

'Oh no not _those_!' Cordelia muttered to Angel. 'A eunuch's no good to me - that's why I chose him over you.'

'Hey!' Angel protested … then he wrinkled his brow. 'I didn't know you understood sign language.'

Cordelia was still watching the deaf lady sign, a big smile on her face as she was swept along in the communal Jasmine worship. 'I didn't either,' she admitted.

...

The sobbing woman was back - she was still unable to do anything but sob her emotions. The crowd cheered.

...

An elderly lady took the mic. 'I've got 37 cats,' she told everybody, 'and I've just changed all their names to Jasmine.' The crowd cheered.

...

Angel had taken the mic now, accompanied by a man on an acoustic guitar. Cordelia had gone up there with him and they were belting out a tuneless duet. '_Now we realise how happy you made us, oh Jasmine, yeah you came and you gave without taking…'_

'We should be doing this every night,' Gunn murmured to Wesley - who nodded along.

'_And we'll keep you forever, oh Jasmine. You came and you gave without taking - and we'll keep you forever, oh Jasmine.'_

* * *

Night had fallen completely, now. The sky, visible through the hole, was black. 'Maybe we should think about movin' on whilst it's dark,' Doyle suggested, 'maybe we should start lyin' low in the day and only movin' at night.'

Fred glanced up, 'I don't wanna go back out there,' she said.

'Y' don't wanna stay in a hole in the ground, forever, either - I'll go up, check the coast is clear.'

'It's too dangerous - if anyone sees ya…'

'Don't worry,' he morphed into his demon spikes, 'I'll go in disguise. You wait here, I'll come back for y' if it's safe.' He got to his feet and went and stood beneath the hole - staring directly up. He took a deep breath, counted to three, and then super jumped his way out of the underground cavern - landing safely on his feet. Fred watched him go, wondering how she was going to get out of the hole when it came to it.

'He's a _half breed?_' the demon said from his corner, sounding disgusted, 'figures - I knew he didn't smell right.'

'You shut up,' Fred snapped again - raising her axe and glaring at the small demon. 'No one cares about your purist, speciest crap. It doesn't matter what species someone is - it's who they are that counts.'

'That's easy to say, when you're the species on top,' the demon muttered. 'When you're the oppressed - the creation of mongrels between your own kind and your oppressor rankles a little bit more.'

'Do I look like I'm oppressing you?' Fred demanded.

'With that axe? Yeah! - and you won't let me pee.'

She shook her head and sat back down, 'just shut up,' she muttered, again. 'There's something bigger and badder than any species in the world out there, right now, oppressing all the humans - making them it's slaves - and me and Doyle are on the run from it. So don't talk to me about the being the species on top. We're frightened animals hiding in the shadows right now.'

'My heart bleeds for you - this must come as a big shock to the human system. Welcome to the world of the demon.'

Fred narrowed her eyes. 'You ever been to Pylea?' she asked him, her voice was hard. 'It's a demon dimension where all humans are slaves, they are treated like cattle, made to wear shock collars that can explode their heads if they dare to disobey. I was there five years - I hid in a cave from demons that wanted to enslave or kill me for five years. You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through and you don't have the first single idea of what oppression actually looks like. So shut the hell up - and if it's safe, we'll be out of your way in a few minutes and you can have your nasty little hole back to yourself.'

'Not my hole,' the demon shrugged, 'I don't live here.'

Fred looked confused, 'you don't?'

The demon looked annoyed. 'Do you live in a dirt hole?'

'No.'

'Do you want to live in a dirt hole?'

'No.'

'Then why do you think I want to live in a dirt hole?'

'You were already here when I landed - I just assumed…'

'I got chased down here by those Jasmaniacs and their demon jihad.'

'Oh,' Fred looked surprised, 'you haven't fallen for Jasmine? Neither have we - at least, Doyle didn't. I woke up - finally saw her for what she was. We're trying to figure out how she controls people.'

'Well good luck with that,' he didn't sound overly impressed, 'you go be heroes. I'm gonna get a little shut eye.' He scooched over, further into the hole, where there was a thin blanket lying on the floor. He pulled it up, ready to cover himself, 'I'm beat.' But Fred had spotted what had been hidden beneath: a pile of human hands.

The demon saw her looking. 'Hey - are these yours? 'Cause I've never seen 'em before.' He picked up one of the severed hands. 'Why would anyone keep a stash of these tasty little … uh disgusting meaty things lying around?' Fred continued to stare. He shrugged and broke off one of the fingers, 'OK, so not a vegetarian.' He took a bite and then offered the hand to Fred. 'Finger food?' There was a long, still moment where they just stared at each other - then he dropped the hand and launched himself at Fred, growling. 'I got your demon Jihad, right here.'

Fred was pinned to the ground under the demon, as it tried to bite her, but her arm holding the axe was free. She swung it, with all her might, and felt the blade lodge into the demon's skull. It went still. She rolled it off herself and got back to her feet, panting heavily. The sound of footsteps, above, told her that Doyle was returning. Sure enough, the half demon landed in the hole beside her, seconds later and shook off his spikes. He looked around, taking in Fred's heavy breathing - and the axe buried in the demon's skull. 'What happened?' he asked. 'You're bleeding again.'

She looked down at her shoulder - the wound had reopened and was bleeding through the bandage. She put her hand to it to apply pressure - and at the same time tried to slow the frantic beating of her heart by taking great gasping lungfuls of air. And that's when it hit her. She stared down at her shoulder, and then at the blood which had seeped onto her fingers.

Doyle watched her bemused. 'What is it?' he asked her, 'what's wrong?'

* * *

The pair of them had returned to the city - and were now standing outside the Magic Bullet Bookstore, their backs to the door. A crowd of Jasmaniacs had cornered them, were closing in.

'Uh, Fred?' Doyle was looking unsure.

'Here we are,' Fred said loudly, 'Come and get us.'

'I hope you know what you're doin', darlin'.'

'I know,' Fred assured him, 'Jasmine - we're waiting.'

* * *

In her room, Jasmine opened her eyes - waking up as she received the visual messages her loyal followers were sending her. 'I've found you,' she smiled.

* * *

Fred pushed open the door of the bookshop and led Doyle inside. 'We want her in here,' Fred was saying.

'Isn't this a bit … enclosed?' Doyle looked around uncomfortably.

'That's the point.'

The shopkeeper looked up from behind the counter, 'hey Fred,' he waved, 'Doyle.'

'You know are names?' Fred asked him.

'You're both famous. It's such an honour that you came here - the two renegades, the apostate and the holy father.'

'Is that me?' Doyle sounded confused. ''Cause where I'm from 'holy father' strictly means the big guy in the sky, yeah … I'm not him.'

'You're Jasmine's father,' the clerk said, 'you're sacred, precious to her and so precious to us all.'

'Right,' Fred gripped her axe, tightly, 'he's precious - and I'm dangerous. So come any closer and I'll chop out your implants.' She began to make her way towards the counter, backing her way slowly towards it - axe still raised.

'You don't have to worry,' the shopkeeper assured them both, 'we're under strict orders not to hurt you - either of you.'

'She's coming for us?' Fred asked - still headed for the counter.

'Yeah. Can I get your autographs?'

'Anything for a fan,' Fred said. She reached the counter and ducked beneath it. 'Who do we make it out to?' She reached under the desk and pulled open the drawer.

'To me of course,' Jasmine's voice said from the doorway. The three people in the shop looked up. She was stood there, flanked by Angel and Groo. Doyle immediately stumbled a few paces backwards, recoiling in disgust from the decay and rotting flesh of his monstrous offspring. But the shopkeeper fell to his knees in awe and reverence. Jasmine smiled down at him, 'and to reward your faithfulness,' she said, 'Dallas, November 2nd, 1963 - there was no second gunman. Oswald acted alone.'

'Oh my god,' tears of joy and thankfulness sprung into the clerk's eyes. Jasmine smiled - and walked towards Doyle, who was shrinking so far back from her he was pressing against the bookshelves. 'Father,' she said to him. He twisted his face away so he didn't have to look at her rotting one. 'I'm so glad to have found you. We are family - I need you near by me.'

He pressed himself even further against the shelves - but there was nowhere left to go. 'Fred!' he yelled at the woman - hoping that whatever it was she was planning, she would do it quickly.

Jasmine reached out a hand to stroke her father's face. Doyle immediately cowered, raising his own arms above his head - protecting his face from her touch. 'Don't touch me!' he yelled at her, trying to make himself as small as possible. 'Fred!' he yelled again.

Jasmine let her hand drop, an inch away from her father's face. As she turned away from him - she looked heartbroken. She left his side and walked over to Fred instead. Groo, seeing the pain in her face, peeled off from her side and stood in front of Doyle. The Irishman had uncurled himself now the immediate danger of being infected by Jasmine's decay had passed, and the Groosalug swung his fist and punched the Irishman right in the stomach. Doyle moaned and collapsed. 'Your Majesty does not deserve the Lady Jasmine's love and mercy,' the Groosalug snarled at him.

'Leave him,' Jasmine said, 'come back to me.' Immediately the Groosalug returned to her left side, as Angel still stood at her right - just a pace behind. The three of them stared at the woman behind the counter. 'Fred,' Jasmine said to her, 'You know that I love you, don't you? And there's nothing you can do or say to make me stop loving you.'

Fred stared back at the three of them. 'I'm so sorry,' she said.

'It's OK,' Jasmine smiled more widely. 'I forgive you.'

'No.' Fred corrected her. 'I was talking to Angel. I hope he can forgive me.' Then she had raised the gun she had taken from the desk drawer and fired a single bullet right at Jasmine. It passed through her right shoulder - right the way through - and then continued flying, until it buried itself into Angel's left shoulder.

He twisted away under the impact and then vamped out in pain and rage. He charged at Fred, pulling her out from behind the desk. Doyle began to struggle back to his feet. 'Angel - Angel - stop.'

But Angel had pinned Fred down against a tabletop display of books and had wrested the gun from her hand - digging the barrel of it into her jaw.


	75. The Magic Bullet: Part Three

_Part Three_

'Angel, man, stop!' Doyle was edging towards the pair of them, his hands high in the air to show he was no threat. But the vampire wasn't listening to him. He was still overcome with rage - still digging the gun into Fred's face. 'Dumb idea for such a smarty,' he snarled. 'You know bullets don't kill me,' he cocked the gun, 'wanna see how they work on you.'

'Angel, man…!'

'Look at her face,' Fred cried from her position pinned to the table. Tears were tracking down her cheeks. 'Look at her.'

Angel glanced towards Jasmine - and froze. His vampire features melted from his face, in shock, as he saw the same thing Doyle and Fred had seen: the rot, the decay, the crawling maggots and the oozing blood. 'No,' he stumbled backward, away from Fred - and she straightened up, breathing heavily.

'Angel,' Jasmine said to him, her voice heavy with concern. Angel backed up even further, shaking his head. Doyle stared between the vampire and Fred. 'is he like us now?' he asked, 'can he see?'

Fred nodded her head. 'I'm sorry, Angel,' she said to the distraught and disbelieving vampire, 'I had to show you.'

'I do not understand,' the Groosalug said, his brow was furrowed.

Angel was still shaking his head, 'no, it can't be. No.'

Jasmine glanced down at her wounded shoulder, and pressed her fingers against it, 'my blood,' she murmured.

'Angel, my friend,' the Groosalug said, 'what is the matter?'

'Get away from him, Groo,' Jasmine's voice was sharp. Unnoticed, Fred spotted the gun lying on the floor and eyed it up. 'Angel has been infected,' the Higher Power told the Grooslaug, 'he's dead to us now. As dead as Fred is.'

Fred grabbed the gun and pointed it straight at Jasmine. 'I loved you so much,' she said - the tears were coursing down her face. She fired it three times, blinking with every shot - and every bullet slammed into Jasmine's body. And then the Groosalug had charged at her, snarling and knocked her off her feet. He turned to his goddess, seeing her wounds. 'We need to get you out of here,' he said.

Doyle was edging towards Fred, intending to pick her up and carry her to safety. But the Grooslaug turned and saw him and grabbed him by the collar, 'why does Your Majesty have to ruin everything?' he demanded. He threw the small half demon against the bookshelves, before grabbing him again with one fist, and pounding him with the other. 'Lady Jasmine is your daughter. She is yours. You should love her. You are chosen - time and again - above all others, but you are never worthy. You are nothing.'

'Do not harm my father, Groo,' Jasmine's voice was laced with a warning - and the Groosalug immediately dropped Doyle - who stumbled against the bookshelves. His nose was bleeding. He put his hand against it to stem the flow.

'How has this happened?' Groo demanded of Jasmine. Doyle staggered his way over to Fred, he struggled to pick her up - but then Angel had shaken himself free of his frozen horror and was at their side. He swept Fred into his arms and carried her out, Doyle stumbling along behind them. The Groosalug made as if to follow them, but Jasmine stopped him. 'Let them go.'

'They need to be stopped, my lady.'

'I need your help,' she said, her teeth were gritted - pain bringing out the impatience in her voice.

The Shopkeeper looked around at the destruction, 'wow, so much blood,' he said. Jasmine stared at it too - her blood, from her four gunshot wounds, was pooling everywhere - spattered against walls, and shelves and making puddles on the floor. 'Stay away from it,' she commanded - and she couldn't hide the fear when she spoke, her words coming out as a frantic bark. 'Both of you. We need to clean this up.'

'I will do it,' the Groosalug offered, 'it will be my honour.'

But Jasmine thought she understood what had happened to Angel, to Fred - she thought she now understood why her father rejected her. She could not take the risk of anyone else being infected. 'No. burn it to the ground.'

'OK,' the clerk said without a moment's hesitation. He flicked his zippo and applied the flame to the pages of one of his books. The fire spread quickly - igniting the whole tabletop display in a matter of seconds. Jasmine and Groo walked out of the shop. 'You want me to stay here?' the clerk called after them. Jasmine didn't look back.

* * *

The lobby had now been set up like a tearoom. Cordy, Lorne, Wes and Gunn sat around one of the tables; Connor was beside them in his high chair. There was a lacy cloth laid across the table and a silver cake stand set upon it. All the other tables, equally crowded with Jasmine worshippers, were set up likewise. It turned out there were several bakers and pastry chefs amongst the people who loved Jasmine - and they wanted to do their bit to make the spiritual gathering more special. So the team had raided the old ballroom - the one with the pool beneath it - and brought out the tables and chairs. Everything looked great, it was wonderful to do something different, to find new ways to share with each other and so experience Jasmine's love but …

'As scrump-dilly-icious as these hot dishes are, they'd be a whole lot tastier if our cocoa-coloured queen were here,' Lorne said.

'I hear that,' Gunn agreed, 'I keep shovelling pie into my hole but I still feel empty.' He took another bite of pie. 'Anybody else picking up weird hurdy-gurdy feelings?'

'Somethings definitely off,' Wesley agreed.

'Where did she go?' Cordelia asked, she had a large slice of key lime pie and was sharing it between her and Connor - a bite for her a bite for him. 'It's just not the same when she isn't around.'

'And when she's not close - I can't get a good read on what's happening elsewhere - can't sense it as well,' Wesley said. He looked at Lorne, who was naturally far more attuned to these things than the others, 'you getting anything?' he asked.

'Only a visual on our lovely leader,' he took another bite of his cake.

'A visual?' Gunn sounded impressed, 'that's some gift you've got - where is she?' But Lorne only chuckled and pointed over the shoulders of his friends with his spoon. 'Over yonder.'

They twisted to look and - sure enough - Jasmine had arrived back at the hotel with the Groosalug. She was wrapped in a blanket. She saw them looking at her and, with a quirk of her head, instructed them to follow her into the office. Wesley was frowning, 'I don't understand,' he said to the others, as they got to their feet and Cordy lifted Connor from his highchair, 'shouldn't Angel be with her?'

...

They found Jasmine inside the office, her back to the door - staring at the wall. Her arms were folded across her chest, the blanket was still wrapped tight around her. 'I'll keep this brief,' she said, her voice had a hard edge to it they hadn't heard there before. It hurt them to hear it - it meant she was angry, or upset. Somehow she had been let down - and they could not bear that. 'Fred has infected Angel,' she told them, 'he is with her and Doyle now. He's gone. He's lost to us.'

'What?' Gunn asked sounding disbelieving but horrified. Cordelia gasped and brought her free hand to her mouth. It had been bad when Doyle refused Jasmine's love - and she was angry when he twisted Fred to be like him. But to take Angel as well? There were no limits to how low the half demon would go, no depths to which he wouldn't sink. And everything he did to hurt his own divine daughter shredded Cordelia's heart a little more.

'Don't worry,' Jasmine turned to look at them, 'I'm not so easily undone as that.'

'Any idea how she did it?' Wesley asked, 'how Fred turned him?'

'Yes. My kindness turned him. By being loving to Fred, I opened the door to her hate. By trying to save Fred, I lost Angel. It won't happen again. We must eradicate their hate. Now - I need a moment alone with Cordelia.'

Cordelia's face lit up with happiness - as the rest of them shared looks of disappointment. She handed Connor over to Gunn and the men all filed out - with many a jealous backward glance, leaving the two women alone in the office. But when Jasmine spoke, her voice was still as hard and as cold as before. 'What do you see when you look at me, Cordelia?' she asked.

Cordelia looked flustered, unsure as to why Jasmine seemed upset with her. 'What do I see?'

'It's a simple question.' Jasmine looked down at the palm of her hand, the one that had burned up earlier - the one Cordelia had insisted on fixing.

'I see … you.' She didn't quite know what to say. 'I see your goodness and your kindness and your beauty.' She smiled, 'I see your light - and I know, whenever I'm close to you, that everything's going to be OK - forever.'

'Even with Doyle on the run? Even when my own father rejects me?'

Cordelia frowned, 'I know you can make it right. I know you can reach him.'

'And if I can't. If you had to choose - who would it be?'

'Oh - you. Of course it would be you. I've already chosen. I chose the moment you first walked into our lobby. There could never be any contest.'

Jasmine turned to her, she was smiling now - and her voice was warmer. 'So you still love me?'

'Oh yes, always,' Cordy's cheeks flushed as she heard the warmth return to Jasmine's tones - and knew that, whatever was troubling the goddess, Cordelia had somehow made it a little better with her words.

'Good,' Jasmine said, but she frowned down at her palm. It was healed now - but it had been damaged before. And Cordelia had touched the damage. And yet her love remained pure - she was not lost, as Doyle and Fred and Angel were lost. 'It was very good of you to help me, before,' she said, 'to want to heal me - you have such a big heart, Cordelia.'

Cordelia flushed even deeper.

'You must be careful,' Jasmine warned her, 'guard your heart against those that would seek to use your kindness against you - the way Fred and Doyle allowed my love for them to help them lure Angel away.'

'They could never take me from you,' Cordelia promised.

Jasmine looked at her palm, 'perhaps not, perhaps some truly are immune to their evil… or perhaps they are a step ahead of me.'

'Surely not,' Cordy sounded shocked at the suggestion - and Jasmine smiled, 'come,' she said, 'I should see to my followers, we have been in here too long.' They left the office - and Cordelia joined the others, as Jasmine walked through the lobby selecting people. 'You,' she said to a biker guy, 'you,' she said to a young woman, 'and you' she chose an elderly man last of all, 'come with me.' The chosen three got to their feet and followed her towards the stairs. 'Groosalug, come along,' she said to the undefeated champion, and he escorted the group up to Jasmine's room.

The team watched them go, Jasmine was still wrapped in the blanket. 'She's taking this really hard,' Cordelia said, 'when she spoke to me … she's worried that the others will lure the rest of us away, I know it.'

'As if anyone would choose the new three stooges over Jasmine,' Lorne said. 'Judas, Brutus and Benedict Arnold, the unholy trio of hell. I can't believe they managed to sway Angel to the dark side.'

'Evil, not evil, evil again,' Gunn said, jigging Connor up and down on his hip, 'I wish he'd just make up his mind.'

'I guess the good news is it doesn't matter anymore,' Wesley shrugged. 'Jasmine says Angel has to die, he dies.'

* * *

Angel and Doyle were hidden down an alleyway. Fred was still unconscious - Angel had lain her on the ground. Doyle was sat on the lower steps of a fire escape; his elbows were resting on his knees and his fingers were laced together, as if he were praying, his knuckles were tucked under his chin. Angel was leaning against the wall, his head was pressed back against the bricks and his eyes were closed. 'What happened?' he said after a long time, 'what happened - to me?'

Doyle raised his head, looking up at the vampire, slowly. 'I don't know,' he admitted, 'Fred figured some stuff out - had a plan, I was just along for the ride.'

'Didn't she explain?'

Doyle stared at him wearily, 'we've been on the run from you guys for a week - every person in the city knows our faces and is on the lookout for us. Nowhere is safe and we gotta move quick when it comes to movin' - no, she didn't take the time to stop and explain it all to me in simple words. Fred's a literal genius - I just let her do her thing and try not to slow her down too much.'

'It's been hard for you guys,' Angel said, slowly. Doyle chuckled, darkly, 'you got no idea. Fred won't stop cryin', half the time, and me…' he shuddered, 'you saw that thing's face, Angel - its true face. That thing used to be inside o' me…' he shook his head. 'I wanna rip my own insides out if I think about that for too long.'

'What is she?' Angel asked. 'How did she get so decayed?' But Doyle didn't know, and he didn't want to think too closely about what form she had taken whilst inside of him - whether that decay had been inside of him, the maggots …

Down on the floor, Fred woke up with a gasp - and then pulled herself into a sitting position. 'Angel!' she said, when she saw him, the memory of what had happened - what she had done - came flooding back. 'Are you OK?'

'Bullet feels like a bee sting,' Angel told her.

'That's not what I meant.'

'I know what you meant, I don't want to talk about it.'

Doyle glanced between the two of them, 'you're not gonna cry are y'?' he asked Angel. Angel only kicked the wall behind himself, in response.

'You need to talk about it,' Fred said, getting to her feet.

Angel looked away from them, 'I miss her so much,' he admitted.

'I know,' Fred nodded her head. 'It's been over a week and I still cry. Part of me wishes I still believed…'

'Well, why don't we?' he asked - quickly, too quickly, His voice was desperate with the longing to go back. 'I don't understand…'

'Jasmine's blood,' Fred explained to both the men, 'it was on the bullet, it passed through her and then into Angel. When her blood mixes with ours it somehow breaks her spell. I think it must have got into my system whilst I was trying to wash her blood off her shirt.'

Doyle whistled, 'you figured that out, when you were bleeding from the demon attack?' he asked. Fred nodded. 'We need more of Jasmine's blood,' she said, 'we need to help the others.'

But Angel shook his head - there was no way they would be allowed to get so close now.

'Then we need to find another way.'

Angel nodded - trying to think, but the pain and emptiness inside was almost too much to bear. He looked at Doyle, resting almost casually against the fire escape - and then at Fred, hunched over. Doyle wasn't hurting like he was - like Fred was. Doyle had never lost Jasmine, he didn't understand their pain… his brow furrowed. Something in Fred's theory didn't quite make sense. 'Doyle, when did your blood mix with Jasmine's?' he asked.

It was Doyle's turn to frown, 'it didn't,' he said, after a moment's thought, 'it couldn't have - I always saw her for what she was, from the moment she was born … what?' he asked - as he saw both Fred and Angel staring at him. 'What?'

'You're Jasmine's father,' Fred said quietly. 'Of course!'

'Of course _what_?'

'Your blood _is _her blood,' Angel explained. 'No mixing required.'

Doyle's face creased as he thought about this, 'you mean I might be able to bre…' he was cut off as a young couple walked past the end of the alleyway, laughing and talking. 'That's our cue to move,' the Irishman said, 'heads down.' But the young couple had stopped - and were staring at the three of them. 'Angel,' the man said. 'You're dead, Fred,' the woman said - and the pair of them began to walk towards the small group.

'Run!' Fred cried - and she turned and fled down the alleyway, the two men just behind her.

* * *

Jasmine led the three people she had chosen, and Groo, down the hallway towards her room. She opened the door and ushered her three followers inside - but stopped Groo from entering. 'Stand guard,' she said to him, 'no one comes into the hallway.'

He nodded his understanding and she went inside her room - shutting the door on the Groosalug, leaving him alone in the hall.

...

The three people were standing inside, waiting patiently for her orders. 'Over there,' she pointed to an empty corner of the room. The three of them moved to stand in it. 'Take your clothes off.' Without a moment's hesitation or a murmur of dissent, the three followers began to strip off - in front of each other and in front of Jasmine. As they undressed, Jasmine walked over to the mirror and finally removed the blanket she had kept wrapped around herself this whole time. The bullet wounds were now visible - and she stared at them in the mirror for a while. Then she closed her eyes - and her injuries healed over.

* * *

The whole room was in darkness - save for the candles that were placed evenly around Kali's bed - like a shrine. A group of people stood in the room, silent, as they paid their respects to the holy mother. Once they had left, the sash window slowly edged upwards and, a moment later, Angel's face appeared. He ducked beneath the pane of glass and wriggled through the gap onto the window ledge - the breath of air sneaking through the window with him caused some of the candles to blow out.

He turned to where Fred and Doyle were clinging to the fire escape outside and raised a finger to his lips, signalling them to be quiet. Then he tried to lower himself from the ledge into the room, but he lost his balance - and tumbled to the floor. Out on the fire escape, Doyle sniggered to himself, 'sneaky,' he muttered, as Fred climbed in the window after Angel.

Once Doyle was in and upright, brushing himself down, Fred and Angel moved towards the door. But Doyle had stopped by Kali's bed - and was staring down at her. She lay completely still, surrounded by candles and flowers, her face was peaceful and her arms were crossed across her chest. She was laid out like the marble effigy of a saint.

'What is it?' Angel asked him, noticing that he had come to a stop. 'What's wrong?'

'I uh…' he rubbed the back of his neck and continued to stare down at the comatose demon woman, 'it's just … I haven't seen her like this. Before.' he reached out and traced his fingers across her face. 'If she were awake - she'd be the real Kali, again - wouldn't she?' he asked, 'now that Jasmine's been born, she'd be free of her possession - just like I was … once I passed it to her.'

Angel and Fred glanced at each other, 'I guess..' Angel said.

'I did this to her,' Doyle told them. 'She might not be dead - but she's as good as. And I did it.'

'_Jasmine _did it to her,' Fred told him, 'just like she infected you - you're both victims. Neither of you are to blame.'

'Right - yeah - but I'm OK, and Kali's in a coma, doesn't really seem fair does it?'

'Nothing about this is fair,' Angel said, he moved back towards the bed, back towards Doyle. 'That's why we're here to stop it. And you can do that - you can make everything right.'

'Not for Kali,' Doyle said, sadly, 'it just … it hits hard, seeing the consequences right in front o' me. I thought it was easier now I'd seen Jasmine, that I could see for myself that I didn't do all those things she made me do whilst she possessed me - she did 'em. It wasn't me. Not really. But I passed her on to Kali and I got away with everythin', whilst she pays the price and that … it hits hard. Kali was an innocent - way more innocent than me.'

'You were both innocent,' Angel assured him, 'this is all Jasmine's fault. No one else's.'

'She's keepin' her close,' Doyle noted, 'Jasmine's keepin' Kali close by to herself. Locked in this room. Like she tried to keep me locked in a cage.'

'Yeah, well, her parents blood is important to her,' Angel replied, standing beside Doyle and staring down at Kali's peaceful face. 'It's the only thing that can break her spell.'


	76. The Magic Bullet: Part Four

_Part Four_

The Groosalug stood guard outside Jasmine's room. There was a green light emanating from inside - it grew brighter and brighter, seeping through the doorway and suffusing the whole hall with it's glow. Groo closed his eyes and smiled, in blissful contentment, as he let the green hued light wash over him.

* * *

'So - uh - how're we gonna do this?' Doyle asked, still staring down at Kali, 'how're we gonna put everyone right?' He was speaking in a whisper - the danger of being overheard, of being found, was too great. Though he was having trouble hearing himself over the frightened pounding of his own heart … at least Angel wouldn't be having that problem.

'We need to mix their blood with yours,' Angel said to him, also keeping his voice to a hushed whisper, 'it shouldn't take much. You still got your old pocket knife?'

Doyle stuck his hand in his pocket and felt the switchblade he kept there. 'Yep.'

'Right - when we get one of the family, I'll grab them. You slice you palm open and then throw me the knife. Then you just gotta wrap your hand around their wound and …'

'They'll wake up into our living nightmare,' Fred finished off.

Doyle nodded his understanding, 'so - uh - how are gonna get close enough?'

'We're gonna have to be real careful going through the hotel,' Fred realised, 'if any of us are seen - well, every one of the Jasmaniacs know what we look like, and orders are probably to kill on sight.'

'Maybe we should try going to one of their rooms, first?' suggested Angel, 'maybe Cordelia's? I think her room is on this floor.'

'I think this_ is_ Cordy's room,' Doyle said to him, glancing around, recognising the furniture - the view from the window, 'I'm guessin' she's not stayin' here.'

'Which means she's staying next door - in your old room,' Angel said. 'We just gotta wait for her to go to bed and…'

The door to the room opened behind them, and immediately they all ducked their heads. Fred and Angel dropped to their knees beside the bed - posing as worshippers. Doyle followed suit - a fraction of a second behind them. He had never been a part of this cult, never knelt at Kali's bedside and given thanks as the other two had - the instinct to bow down and worship her was not reflexive for him - as it was for Angel and Fred. He had never known that Jasmaniacs really did come in here and pray to her, that seeming to pray was a cover no one would question.

The Bookstore owner had referred to him, Doyle, as the 'holy father' - everyone was always reminding him he was Jasmine's father, but the fact that their being Jasmine' parents gave him and Kali special status within the cult, made them divine themselves, was something he hadn't considered before - hadn't realised. It felt strange to kneel before someone he had known, treat this ordinary demon girl as if she were holy. It was even stranger to consider that, if he had not rejected Jasmine so thoroughly, people might be treating him in the same way. But once he was on his knees … he'd spent enough bored hours in church throughout his life; bowing down in prayer to the mother of a different God until his knees cramped - he could fake his way through this well enough that no one would notice he didn't belong.

'Any more room at the inn?' It was Lorne. The three of them lowered their heads even further - but, even with their heads bowed, Angel and Doyle managed to make eye contact with each other, keeping up silent communication the whole time: waiting for their moment.

The green demon closed the door behind him, and then spotted the blown out candles. He tutted and shook his head. 'Look at this, pigs in paradise.' He righted the candles, and used the flames of the ones still burning in order to relight them. Then he glanced at the three dark heads all bowed low, paying their respects at Kali's bedside. 'Mind if I join you?' he asked, 'pay my respects to the woman who made peace on earth possible.' He knelt down at the foot of the bed, right beside Angel, who twisted slightly away from him, trying to hide his identity. The vampire maintained eye contact with Doyle the whole time.

Lorne had his hands pressed together, now, and was praying out loud. 'Thank you, Kalimania, for your sacrifice. For bringing our Jasmine into the world…'

As Lorne continued his prayer of thanksgiving, Doyle, head still lowered, raised his eyebrows at Angel - asking the silent question. Angel nodded, almost imperceptibly, in reply. Now.

Moving as fast as his vampire speed would allow, he jumped to his feet and got behind Lorne, grabbing him under the arms and holding him tight. 'What?' Lorne yelled in confusion, 'hey!' His eyes widened as Fred and Doyle also got to their feet, and he saw who his silent companions had been. 'What are you…?' Angel clapped his hand about Lorne's mouth, as Doyle took out his knife and sliced his own palm open.

He hissed with the pain as he felt the blade run down his skin, the path of the knife was immediately followed by a streak of ruby red. Then he threw the knife towards Angel, who held Lorne tight with one arm, and reached out to grab the knife from the air with the other. Lorne twisted in his grasp, 'unclean! Unclean!' the demon yelled. But Angel was too strong to fight and - in a fluid movement - the vampire was able to twist Lorne's arm behind him and slice his wrist with the blade. Lorne cried out in pain - and then stared fearfully as Doyle approached him.

His fear turned to confusion as - rather than hurt him some more - Doyle simply grabbed Lorne's bleeding wrist with his own bleeding hand and held the two cuts together for a few moments.

'We're so sorry, Lorne,' Fred said, from behind Doyle.

'Sorry? What?...' And then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

* * *

The green light reached the zenith of its brightness. The Groosalug held his breath as he basked in its glow. Even though his eyes were closed he could still feel its intensity, still see it from behind his eyelids. And then it began to die back - growing dimmer and dimmer. He let his breath out.

The door opened behind him and he turned to look. There was Jasmine, the green light was still glowing dimly inside the room, and it seemed to suffuse the higher power as well - she was glowing. A wide, adoring smile lit up the Groosalug's foolish, handsome face. 'My true lady,' he said to her, his voice hushed with awe and reverence, 'you are the most beautiful thing I have ever had the honour to look upon.'

Jasmine smiled and stroked his face, he smiled further beneath her touch - it was how Kalimania used to touch him. 'My sweet boy,' Jasmine said.

Groo peered into the room behind her. She had taken three of her loyal followers inside with her - but now the room appeared empty. 'Forgive me, my lady, but where are those people?' he asked.

She only smiled brighter. 'I ate them,' she told him - and walked away down the corridor.

The Groosalug watched her go. Because she didn't look back, Jasmine missed the ever so slight crease of concern that wrinkled the undefeated champion's brow. But it only lasted a moment, and then he shrugged off his concern and, slavishly, followed her down the hall.

* * *

Lorne sat in darkness. The candles were still lit, their flames still flickered brightly - but he could no longer feel their warmth or cheer. Instead he felt like he was trapped in the wavering black shadows they cast on the wall. If Jasmine was the light, then he was now the definition of darkness: the complete absence of her. No hope. No happiness. Angel and the others were still in the room with him, looking at him in concern - he could feel it, the worry; see it in their eyes - but he had never felt more alone in his life. The great emptiness inside his chest, the sucking void where Jasmine had been, left him cold and alone and more desperately unhappy than he ever remembered feeling before.

And the plan was to spread this misery around. What they had done to him, Angel and the others, they wanted to do to the rest. Believed it was for the best, believed this was real freedom. And it was - Lorne could see that - the spell was broken, he had his free will back and now the others needed theirs restoring. But he just wanted to curl into a ball and cry, to crawl back to Jasmine and beg to love her again. What he was feeling now might be the truth, but the howling, gasping, icy pain inside of him screamed that the lie had been infinitely better. And the weakness in him wanted the lie back. But the champion in him knew there was no way back and - even if there were - he couldn't do it. He had to join these other three champions, even as he felt his soul shrivelling and dying inside of him, and bring the rest of their family back to their senses.

'Are you sure you can do this?' Angel asked him. The vampire's brow was lowered, his eyes were dark with worry, his voice heavy and concerned. Lorne could almost see himself through Angel's eyes - saw his own brokenness, and understood completely why the others would think he wasn't up to this. He was a wreck, a hollowed out husk of despair. But he forced himself to nod his assent. He took his hip flask from his inside jacket pocket and took a deep swig. 'Hallelujah,' he said, heavily.

* * *

He walked down the stairs. He had on his biggest, brightest smile - the one he used to wear when he was compering at Caritas. 'Hey,' he grinned at a couple walking past him, 'I'm praising Jasmine, how about you?' The woman nodded that she was and he laughed and clapped his hands, 'ha ha! Great.' The couple walked away and he scanned the lobby, his eyes becoming hard and the smile falling from his face. 'Tonight the role of Judas Iscariot will be played by Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok clan,' he muttered to himself.

More worshippers climbed the stairs and he immediately snapped his dazzling smile back in place. 'Hey! Feeling the love?' he asked the people - a slightly manic note crept into his enforced cheeriness, 'thank you, Jasmine, feeling the love!' He spotted Wes and Gunn across the lobby. They were stacking the tables and chairs. Over by the counter, Cordelia was shaking out the tablecloths and then folding them. 'Do we really need to hoover before bed?' he heard her ask - she was eyeing all the crumbs that were scattered across the lobby floor, left over from their late night tea room.

'People will be wanting to gather as soon as the sun rises,' Wesley said to her, 'we can hardly ask them to lift their feet up whilst we vacuum around them.'

'Can't ask Jasmine to be worshipped in a cake crumb mess either,' Gunn pointed out, placing a chair on top of a towering stack and then beginning a new pile. 'And the crumbs'll attract the rats, we sure as hell can't worship her loveliness in a rat infested hellhole.'

'But I'm just beat,' Cordelia sighed.

'It's for Jasmine,' Wesley said - his eyes blazing with love as he spoke. There was a slight note of chastisement in his voice - disappointment that Cordelia would even think about putting her own need for rest before glory of Jasmine.

'Well - for Jasmine, I guess I'll …'

'I'm gonna have to stop you there, cupcake,' Lorne interrupted her, coming up next to the group. He kept his smile wide and winked at Cordelia. 'hold off your vacuum cleaners, I've got good news, my devoted darlings. Jasmine's pulling you out of stacking and folding duty and wants to see us ASAP for a little TLC. '

'Really?' Wesley frowned, he stacked his final chair and then turned to Lorne. 'I haven't sensed anything.' He glanced between Cordy and Gunn, 'have either of you?' Cordelia frowned and closed her eyes, casting her mind around into the ether - trying to sense Jasmine, and then shook her head. She had nothing. Gunn also answered in the negative. 'Nope. And everything else has been pretty clear.' They went back to stacking the chairs.

Lorne grit his teeth in frustration but outwardly made his smile even wider. 'Tout de suit, mes amis,' he said to them. He grabbed the final chair and put it on the stack - hoping to get them away quicker. But - unnoticed by him - his sleeve rolled back, with the action, and it revealed the stretch of his wrist that had been cut - and then hastily bandaged up with Doyle's first aid supplies.

'What happened to you?' Wesley said - suddenly staring at him and frowning. Lorne gulped, 'wh- what do you mean?' he asked, almost choking on the words. He felt his blood freeze in his veins, as he thought they had found him out.

'You're wrist, you've cut it.'

Gunn and Cordelia were also staring at him now. Lorne gulped again and then forced a chuckle. 'Oh - that. That is … a long and boring story. Come on.' He waved his arm, beckoning them all to follow him, and then turned and headed back for the stairs, hoping against hope that they would stop asking questions and just follow him.

...

The three of them followed Lorne down the hallway. He reached the door and held it open. 'She's in the Holy Mother's room,' he said, when he saw the frowns on their faces. They still didn't trust why they hadn't felt Jasmine's wish to speak with them - and they didn't understand why they were visiting her anywhere but her own rooms. 'She wanted to honour our Lady Kalimania - she wants you to join her.'

He ushered them inside and - once their backs were turned - grabbed a baseball bat he'd stashed in the hallway ready for this purpose. He closed the door behind them all.

Anyone walking down that corridor just then would have suddenly heard the quiet and tranquillity be disturbed by the sound of Cordelia screaming, and her voice being quickly shut off - as if someone had wrapped their hand around her mouth, and then two loud thumps - like people being hit over the head with a baseball bat. But there was nobody out in the corridor - so nobody heard their kidnap.

* * *

The whole team were sat together in the darkness, now. Cordelia was wrapped in Doyle's arms, sobbing quietly against his chest as he stroked her short hair and shushed her. That was the only sound in the room. Other than that it was silent - and the weight of the silence was as crushing as the weight of the knowledge they now all shared. As crushing as the despair that tore out their hearts and left them empty and hollow and cold.

'How did you figure it out?' Wesley asked after the longest time, once the shared quiet and heartbreak had become too much to bear. The old thousand yard stare had taken up residence on his face, once again; the look he had worn when he had first realised the truth of the prophecy, last year, realised he was going to have to betray his best friend and steal his son. But this feeling - it was ten, a hundred, a thousand times worse than anything he had suffered in the run up to Connor's kidnap. His insides were frozen, aching with the cold now the warmth of Jasmine had left him. And the loneliness - now he was cut away from her love - was a burden too heavy to bear, resting on his shoulders, crushing him beneath its weight. He ached with the knowledge, with the truth - and ached for the loss of Jasmine. And if he was going to make sense of all this pointlessness and pain, now that he was alone again, then he needed to know how the others had come to understand the truth.

'It was Angel,' Fred said. 'I worked out that mixing my blood with Jasmine's had somehow broken the spell - and used Jasmine's blood to free Angel … but that didn't explain Doyle, why he could always see her as she really was. Angel figured it out - Doyle is her father. They share a blood link as well as a mystical one.'

'We hoped that his blood would work the same way Jasmine's did, if we exposed you all to it,' Angel added.

Doyle held Cordelia even closer, 'and I guess it worked, thank God.'

'Yeah … thanks for nothing,' Gunn said. He was staring down at the floor, his head bowed - his face a portrait of misery and hopelessness.

'Yeah you slashed this wrist,' Lorne raised the wrist they had cut, 'I'm ready to do the other myself.'

Doyle frowned, 'but you're all free now, you got your free will back - and we're all together again. That's a good thing.' His family were back together, their free will restored. Cordelia was in his arms once more - this was more than he would have dared to hope for, just this morning. This was everything. But, apparently, he was the only one who felt that way.

Gunn, Wes and Lorne just stared at him. 'He doesn't get it,' Fred said to them, 'he never got it. He never loved Jasmine, he hasn't lost… like we have.' Still wrapped in Doyle's arms, Cordelia began to cry even harder. 'It hurts so much,' she gasped, trying to blot her tears against Doyle's shirt.

'It gets better,' Fred assured her, 'easier - after a while … it hurts less. You can forget how she used to make you feel.'

'I don't wanna forget,' Gunn muttered, 'I wanna…' he didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Everyone but Doyle understood, knew what the ending was. He wanted to go back. They all did. Wanted to give into weakness and accept Jasmine's perfect love into their hearts once more; feel the peace and contentment and completeness she bestowed upon them, banish forever the cold and loneliness that was all the world without Jasmine had to offer.

'Everything we believed,' Wesley said slowly, wonderingly, '...deception.' It didn't make sense, he couldn't quite understand how this could have happened. How they could have fallen so completely. How the lie could be this big.

'And how do we convince several million people that Jasmine's message is false?' Angel said. Doyle shook his head, 'there's six million people in the naked city, I'm not slicin' my hand open for all o' em. I've not got that much blood. No one has … even if we borrowed from Kali as well…' he glanced over at the comatose demon and trailed off.

Cordelia sniffed, and twisted in his arms, so her face was no longer buried against his chest. 'No - whatever we do, it can't be anything that's gonna hurt Doyle,' she said, 'he already did enough - waking us up…' her face crumpled as she thought how she wished he hadn't bothered, but she didn't voice it. 'We've got to find another way.'

'Even if we're able to develop a synthetic analogue to Doyle's blood - and I don't know how we'd even start going about that -' Fred said, 'I mean, … how do we even go about fighting something this big and powerful?'

'I don't know,' Angel said, shaking his head, 'but I do know one thing - I'm not leaving this hotel without my son.' He looked at Cordelia, 'is he up in my rooms?'

She nodded, still trying to stifle her tears, 'I put him down about an hour ago, but Angel…' She trailed off.

'What?' he realised they were all staring at him, he looked around at all of them, 'what is it?'

It was Gunn's turn to shake his head. He sighed, 'you can't take a baby on the run, man,' he told Angel, 'Connor needs to stay here - where it's safe.'

'Safe?' the vampire sounded disbelieving, 'you're telling me to leave my baby alone in the hotel with that decaying thing that violated all our minds because being on the run isn't _safe_?'

'Yeah,' Gunn said, heavily, 'I am. Jasmaniacs will be comin' for us left, right and centre, trying to kill us - we can't fight properly if we're trying to protect Connor, the whole time. Plus he'll need feeding - and changing - and nap times and … we can't do all that on the run.'

'He's not wrong, bud,' Doyle said.

'Like hell he isn't, how safe will he be here alone, huh? With his family all heretics and Jasmine out to hurt us?'

'Angel,' Cordelia's voice was soft, 'Jasmine hasn't hurt him yet. She hasn't hurt him since you … got your free will back. She's left him alone. The Groosalug will look after him - he's had plenty of practice. He loves Connor, he'll see no harm comes to him.'

'I am not leaving my son here as a slave to this cult,' Angel insisted. 'What if we fail, huh? What if we die? Connor will never know the truth. He needs to be woken up, the same as the rest of us. He's as much a part of this family as any of us, we don't leave family behind. Doyle - you need to cut your hand open again bring him back to his senses.'

'Angel, man … think what you're sayin',' Doyle said to him.

'You wanna cut open Connor?' Fred asked.

'It wouldn't have to be big - just enough to mix his blood with Doyle's.'

'Big or small, he'll scream the house down, bubchen,' Lorne said gently.

'And that's only the start of it,' Wesley warned. 'Think, Angel, think how you feel now Jasmine is no longer in your heart, now you see the truth: the coldness, the loneliness, the emptiness. Connor will feel all that too, and he won't understand why, won't be able to cope. He'll scream and he'll scream and he'll scream.'

'I feel like joinin' him,' Gunn muttered.

'He won't stop crying in pain until his cries have brought Jasmine right down on top of us and she has killed us all - including Connor,' Wesley said, his voice was heated and his eyes were flashing. But Angel was getting just as heated. 'What are you suggesting, then?' he demanded, 'that I abandon my son? You think I should just leave him behind? Huh? For the greater good?'

'For his own good,' Wesley snapped back at him. 'You have to do what's best for Connor - not what's best for you. This is exactly why…' he broke off his sentence, forcing himself to stop - and he looked away, in pain. But Angel understood where he had been going. 'This is exactly why you stole him last year, is that what you were going to say? Is it?'

He was on his feet, bearing down on Wes. The watcher also stood up - looking at Angel, once more. They were practically toe to toe. 'Yes. That's what I was going to say. Doyle and I took Connor from you because we knew you couldn't be trusted to do the right thing - the hard thing - where he was concerned. We did it to protect you from yourself - and you're only proving that we were right to do it, by insisting on endangering him now, because you don't want to leave him behind. You're being selfish - like we knew you would be.'

'Don't you dare…' Angel lunged at Wes, Wesley caught his arm before the blow could land and the pair of them began to grapple, banging into Kali's bedside and knocking over candles as they fought.

'Guys! Guys!' Cordelia tried to yell, but they weren't listening. They continued to tussle, barging round the room. Fred shrieked and scrambled out of their path, Lorne backed into a corner, 'oh for the love of mercy,' he murmured. But Gunn had managed to get between the fighting pair, he wrapped an arm around Wesley's chest and heaved him backwards. Angel lunged again - wanting to strike, now Wesley was restrained, but Doyle got in the middle, and shoved the vampire back - pressing his palms flat against Angel's chest, pushing him back into the far corner.

'We can't fall apart like this,' Cordelia said, looking between Wesley and Angel - the distress plain on her face. 'We're all we have, in a city gone doolally, we can't fight amongst ourselves.'

'I'll fight anyone who thinks they can tell me what to do with my son, or who tells me he's safer away from me,' Angel said through gritted teeth. Doyle remained in the way, blocking his path. 'You're not thinkin' straight, man,' he said, 'you're thinkin' with your heart - you gotta use your head. For Connor. You know wakin' him up to the truth will put him in danger, you just don't wanna admit that he's safer here. Jasmine won't hurt him as long as he loves her. Make him like us … and he goes on the hit list, no matter how young and helpless he is.'

'Oh right, my other great protector talking now, is that it?' Angel asked, glaring down at the shorter man. 'You and Wesley - fighting together to keep me safe … until it suits you to shaft him, stab him in the back and leave him carrying the can.'

Doyle took a step back, his hands fell from Angel's chest. '_Angel!'_ he heard Cordelia's voice admonishing the vampire for bringing up the past - his past. His betrayal. 'It's the truth, Cordy,' Angel said to her, his voice hard and unforgiving, 'you might have decided Doyle's lies don't matter anymore, but…'

'They don't matter anymore,' Wesley interrupted, still being held back by Gunn. Doyle looked at him in surprise. 'Enough water has flowed under the bridge since then,' the watcher continued '- and we are where we are now. We're a family again, that's all that matters - and we each have to act in a way that keeps everyone else safe. The past isn't important anymore.'

'And how are we gonna keep Connor safe, leaving him all alone?' Angel asked him, his voice sarcastic.

Wesley took a deep breath. 'If you don't want to leave Connor with the Groosalug … I'll stay with him,' he sighed. 'Jasmine doesn't know I can see the truth. I'll stay here, with Connor, pretend I still love her - and keep him safe.'

Angel had stared at him for a long time. 'That will put you in a lot of danger,' he said, quietly, 'if Jasmine realises…'

'I know,' Wesley said, equally quietly. The rest of the family were silent - looking between the pair of them as they each spoke, as if watching a rally at a tennis match.

'You'll be cut off from the rest of us,' Angel said, 'unable to contact the rest of the family, we won't be able to help if you get into trouble…'

'I know,' Wesley said again.

'What you're offering to do…'

'Is put myself in danger to keep Connor safe,' Wesley said. He looked Angel dead in the eyes. 'I am more than willing to take the risks. I love that little boy as if he were my own son - and I will do whatever it takes, sacrifice whatever it takes, to keep him alive. You have to know that. I will always protect him, above everything else.'

Angel stared back at him for a long moment. 'I know,' he said, finally.

* * *

**A/N -next episode is 'Sacrifice' **


	77. Sacrifice: Part One

**Sacrifice**

_Part One_

Once his family had climbed out of the window and down the fire escape, making their way to freedom and leaving him all alone, Wesley turned and left Kali's room, headed for the stairs. As he climbed each step, his feet felt like leaden weights - and it matched the leaden feeling of dread knotting in the pit of his stomach. He was the only person left in the hotel who knew the truth. He was surrounded by enemies, pretending to be one of them. And if he was discovered, there would be no way to get word to Angel and the others for them to come and rescue him. He was dependent only on his own wits and cunning, hoping he could deceive Jasmine into believing he still loved her. But how did one little man go about deceiving a millenniums old higher power, who held dominion over the whole city and the hearts of the people who lived there?

He reached Angel's suite of rooms and, hesitantly, pushed the door open. This was a place he had avoided for a long time now - been barred from before that. The last time he had been up here … it might have been the night of the earthquake, when the fire had ripped through Angel's room and nearly devoured the three of them. And then Angel's blood had dripped onto Connor's little blanket - and Wesley had realised that the signs had come to pass, and he would have to take Connor away.

For all the pain that had followed, those few weeks with Connor - hiding in their ranch house in Arizona - had been some of the happiest of his life. Connor had been his son. They were all each other had and they were everything to each other. Now - things were back the same way. Connor was all Wesley had - and Connor might not know it, understand it - trapped under Jasmine's spell as he was - but Wesley was all Connor had left, too. For now, anyway. And Wesley was going to make the most of the time he had.

Although the little boy was sleeping, the watcher still picked him up from his cot and held him close. Apart from one brief moment, when Angel had absentmindedly handed the baby over to him - he hadn't held Connor in a year. Hadn't held him close, smelled his scent, felt his warmth. He cradled the baby to his chest and inhaled deeply. The smell was much the same, milk and talcum powder and freshly clean skin - but he couldn't help but notice all the differences too. He took them in, wonderingly. Connor had changed a lot in a year, grown a lot. He was no longer a floppy little baby - he was a sturdy little boy, with dimpled, chunky legs which were just starting to bear his weight as he learned to toddle. His hair was much thicker and darker, too - and his face was changing. It was still round and soft, but it was taking on more of its own individuality and character. He didn't just look like any baby anymore, he looked like himself. Wesley could see the traces of Angel in the boy's features- and Darla too. But for all the changes, he was still just as good natured as he had always been, just as happy, just as calm and well behaved and full of love. Connor may be growing older - but the important things were staying the same.

The baby began to grizzle in his arms, started to wake up after being disturbed. Wesley shushed him and jigged him up and down. '_Slaep slaep lytla bera' _he sang his mother's old lullaby to the little boy, just as he had done before. '_Du eart gesund mid me.' _When he had finished, he placed the sleeping boy back down in the crib and stroked his hair. 'Du eart gesund mid me,' he repeated. And he meant it. Whatever it took to deceive Jasmine, to defeat her - no matter how poorly matched he was, he would find a way. Because Connor's safety depended on it.

* * *

The gang were all crushed into the Plymouth; Angel, Cordy and Doyle up front - Fred, Gunn and Lorne in the back. Angel was driving - morose and silent. Cordelia gave him a worried glance, 'Wesley will take good care of Connor,' she said to him.

'I know he will,' Angel said - his voice a blank monotone, still staring straight ahead.

The silence descended again. Doyle wriggled uncomfortably. 'Maybe we should put the radio on?' he suggested, 'see what the news is sayin' - we might be able to - I dunno - stay one step ahead if we're listenin' in?'

Angel reached out and switched the radio on, still saying nothing. A female news announcer's voice filled the car. 'And in an impromptu speech today, the mayor—I really love that guy, don't you?— The mayor declared Los Angeles the first "Citadel of Jasmine," a cradle of civilisation which will usher in a new age for all of humanity. In related news, the L.A. Archdiocese has stated to the press that it will remove all false idols from its churches, replacing them with images of she who walks among us. Way to go, Catholic Church. Yes, it's a great day to be alive.'

'The Catholic Church are throwin' out their statues of Big M and callin' her a false idol … now I know the world's gone nuts,' Doyle said, 'my mam would have a conniption fit if she heard that.'

'Wall to wall Jasmania,' Lorne said, from the back, 'talk about media bias. I'm feeling like the last feisty wife in Stepford right about now.'

'What are we gonna do?' Fred asked, 'what can we do?'

'Run,' Cordelia suggested, shrugging her shoulders, 'pray?'

'Just not to the virgin Mary 'cause she's out on her ass, same as us,' Doyle said. Angel turned the wheel, taking them down another road - and continued to stare straight ahead. 'There's got to be something we can do - and we'll find it,' he said. 'We just need time.'

'To hell with that,' Gunn said - leaning forward so he could speak to Angel through the gap in the front seats. 'We need a damn break. But the universe don't seem to be handing breaks out to the underdog lately. No leads, no database, no weapons, no shelter.'

'And not a lot of gas,' Angel added, 'we'll not get out of town on what we have in the tank.'

* * *

Jasmine had taken five more people into her room. Under her instruction they each stripped off all their clothes, casting them aside without a moment's hesitation. 'Thank you,' she said to them, 'now, please come to me.' They all walked towards her - and she began to glow green, brighter and brighter. The light fell on her worshippers and swallowed them whole. Once the light began to dim, she was all alone in the room once more. She frowned to herself - and called out with her mind to those who had loved her first, the team members who were still loyal. She wished to see them.

* * *

'OK - how we gonna do this?' Doyle asked, as Angel turned the wheel and drove the Plymouth onto the forecourt of the gas station. 'Me, you and Fred stay low,' Angel said, 'make sure no one sees us. We just gotta hope word's not out on the rest of you - you guys are on getting out and getting gas duty.'

'I don't know,' Lorne sounded nervous, 'that's a whole lot of pod people,' he said, nodding to all the customers coming and going between the pumps. But, busy as it was, it was emptier than the last three they had tried - and they couldn't keep going. They needed gas fast, and then they needed to get the hell outta Dodge even faster.

'Is that really our big plan?' Gunn asked, 'just keep running?'

'Works for me,' Doyle said.

'I hear good things about Belize ,' Lorne added.

Cordelia looked around her, twisting her head to take in the surroundings and the passing Jasmaniacs. 'That one,' she pointed to a pump with a pickup truck parked by it, the driver was pre-paying the gasoline. 'We gotta be fast.'

'Fast works for me,' Gunn said.

'Remember they're just under her spell,' Angel warned the two warriors responsible for getting out of the car - the ones who would be seen - and so in the direct line of fire. 'But if it comes down to a choice between us and them…'

'Believe me - I'm there,' Gunn told him. Cordelia nodded, 'Angel - go,' she said. With a squeal of tyres, Angel turned the car around and backed up to the pump - shunting the truck out of the way. Gunn jumped over the door and punched out the driver of the truck, 'sorry bro, it's for your own good.' He grabbed the nozzle, now dangling from the pump, and began to fill the tank.

'You guys - keep your heads down,' Cordelia hissed at the others - and she too jumped over the side of the car and took point over by Gunn - ready to fight off anyone who tried to stop them. Inside the Plymouth, Angel and Fred cowered, trying to shield their faces from the Jasmaniacs surrounding them, trying to go unnoticed. Doyle slumped down in his seat, scooching himself so low that his forehead barely came up to the windshield. 'You think we might make it?' he asked - and then a moment later, cursed himself out for asking the dumb question.

Just beyond the car - straight in front of the windshield, staring directly in at the front seat, stood one of the Jasmaniacs. They began to laugh. 'Angel,' they said, their voice almost a singsong, 'we see you.'

* * *

'There you are, I've been looking all over.' Wesley had been standing in Angel's room for he didn't know how long, just watching Connor sleep. He froze as he heard Jasmine's voice in the doorway. Slowly, he turned to look at her...

Instinctively, he stumbled backwards, drawing back in horror - her face… he'd known what she was, since the spell was broken, but this was the first time seeing Jasmine's true face. What Fred had seen - what Doyle had seen all along - the rot and decay, the maggots, the oozing blood. The foulness and the evil. He inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat.

Jasmine tilted her head to one side, 'what's wrong?' she asked him. She sounded concerned - he needed to hold it together better than this. He dropped to his knees. 'I just … I've missed you,' he said - trying to make his voice sincere, inject all that love he had felt for her into his tones.

'I've been calling for you,' she said to him, 'why didn't you come - if you missed me?'

'I… I was here with Connor,' he said, ducking his head so he didn't have to see her putrefying flesh, hoping she would mistake it for reverence. 'Since Angel turned … Connor has no one.'

'That's not true - he has you. And he has me.'

'Yes … you still love Connor? Although his father rejects you?'

Jasmine took a few steps towards him. Her face … he thought she might be smiling, if he still saw her the way she had been, her expression would be the gentle, loving smile that had always filled his heart with more joy than he ever thought possible. But now … that rotting gash, the festering lips - the crawling maggots, now it did not look much like a smile at all.

'It is not Connor's fault his father rejects me,' Jasmine said, 'my own father rejects me - it is something Connor and I have in common, a bond we both share. Evil, heretic fathers.'

'So you'll not take Angel's desertion out on his son?'

'Of course not.'

Even terrified as he was, disgusted as he was - Wesley felt something inside of himself unclench with relief at her words. They had been right - as long as Connor was a true believer, he was safe. And - as long as she believed Wesley was a true believer - he would be, too. But there may be a problem there.

'Did you not feel me call you?' she asked him, 'we are so connected, why didn't you come when I called?'

'I …' he didn't know what to say.

'You're in pain,' she said to him. 'Is that it? - you hurt, your friends are apostates - Connor is abandoned and you hurt. When I promised no one would ever hurt again. I'm sorry, Wesley. Can you forgive me?'

'Y - yes.'

'Stand for me.' Reluctantly, he got to his feet. 'Look at me,' she said. Fighting to keep his face impassive, to give nothing away, he raised his head, slowly - and held himself completely still, using every ounce of his iron will to stop himself from flinching, from cowering, when he looked into the nightmare of her face.

'I want to take away your pain,' she said to him.

'I - I don't have any pain when you are around, J-Jasmine,' he said, forcing the words out, forcing the sincerity.

'I'm so glad. Where are your friends?'

'I-I don't know. I've just been here with …'

'With Connor - you love him very much. He is lucky to have a second father to raise him, now his real father has given into hate and darkness. I know that pain - it's why I need the love of all my followers. To make up for what my own father cannot give me.'

'He is not worthy of you,' Wesley said. It was what he would have said before - though his voice was stiffer and more stilted now. But Jasmine seemed not to notice. The gash of her mouth made that same shape from before - what would look like a gentle smile to someone still under her spell - 'but still I grieve for him…' she said. Then she gasped and went still.

'What is it?' Wesley asked. He felt sick with dread - as well as with the visceral disgust her monstrosity caused him, deep in the pit of his stomach.

'I see them,' she said, 'I see Angel - and my father and …' she gasped again, 'they have infected the rest of your family with their hate.'

Wesley just stared back - the feeling of dread intensifying. The others had been caught so soon - and surely she would realise that, if the others were free of her spell, so must Wesley be too. 'Can - can you get them back?' he asked her.

'There's nowhere for them to go,' she replied, again her rotting maw made the shape of a smile, 'Every moment that passes I grow closer to my followers. I feel what they feel, I see what they see. We're fusing together like the cells of a single body. They're my eyes, my skin, my limbs, and, if need be, my fists.'

* * *

The Jasmaniac walked towards the car. Angel and Doyle glanced at each other, in dismay, and then Angel jumped so he was standing on the driver's seat and then jumped again - over the windshield - so he was standing on the hood. Behind him, Doyle slid across the front seat so he was behind the wheel - ready to start driving the second Gunn was finished with the gas.

'Stay back,' Angel said, from up on the hood, his fists raised. Over by the pump Cordelia's stance had shifted - so her weight was on the balls of her feet and she was ready to fight. Fred jumped out of the car and took over the refueling, freeing Gunn up to stand by Cordy, fists also raised. 'We don't wanna hurt anyone,' Angel said.

'But you are hurting them,' the Jasmaniac said - and this time, when they spoke, they spoke in Jasmine's voice. ''You're hurting them just by being.'

Angel looked unnerved - and glanced back at his family, 'OK, that's new,' he muttered.

'Freddikins - how we comin' on that gas?' Lorne called over to Fred.

'Nearly there!' she called back.

'Doyle?'

'Ready the second she's done,' the Irishman said - not even looking round. He was staring straight ahead, where the first Jasmaniac was now being joined by more and more of them, bearing down on the car. 'Dear, sweet …' he muttered to himself.

'You're a disease in the body Jasmine,' Jasmine's voice said through the lips of her loyal follower, 'and you must be purged.' The Jasmaniac walked purposefully towards Angel and - when he got a closer - lunged towards the vampire. But Angel easily punched him out and then flung the Jasmaniac away from the car.

'Soccer Mom - 12 o'clock,' Lorne yelled - pointing behind Cordelia. She wheeled around and saw a woman bearing down on her, wielding a huge monkey wrench. The woman swung the wrench right at Cordy's head, but she ducked it and, as she stood back up, kicked the woman in the chest - making her stumble backwards. 'I hate it when I can't kick 'em in the goolies,' Cordy muttered to herself, as she regained her fighting stance - waiting for the woman to come back at her.

Meanwhile, a man had broken off the bottom of a glass bottle and was stalking towards Fred - who, gas pump in hand, was unable to defend herself. 'You can't out run my love. It has wings made of radio,' he said - raising the jagged glass to stab at her. But, before the man could reach her, Gunn had jumped in front of her and punched the guy out.

An SUV drove up to the pump beside them and the back window rolled down. A little girl stared out at them. 'My love sings over the wires that bind this world.'

'OK, gettin' a little creepy,' Gunn said, as he and Fred stared back at the little girl.

The woman and her wrench came back at Cordelia - but Cordy was ready and swung her fist straight into the woman's face. The woman dropped to the floor and Cordelia kicked her for good measure until she was still.

A man with a wrench began to walk purposefully towards Angel. 'The city is mine vampire,' Jasmine's voice said through his lips, 'all tools are mine.'

'Yeah, we're working on that.' He thumped the guy and then looked back at his family. 'OK pit stop's over.' He climbed back over the windshield and dropped down beside Doyle. Cordy clambered in next to him.

Fred pulled the pump from the car and - seeing the guy with the broken bottle coming at her again - swung it hard in his face, knocking him down, before she and Gunn climbed into the back seat.

'Drive,' Angel commanded - and Doyle turned the key in the ignition and hit the gas. By the time they hit the end of the forecourt, they were going so fast the tyres screeched as they turned onto the road. Doyle pressed harder on the accelerator. 'Where to?' he asked.

'Head for the city limits,' Angel told him, 'if we can get beyond Jasmine's sphere of influence then maybe we can warn someone, prepare them before she goes global.'

'Works for me.' But, as they reached the end of the block they heard the sudden blare of police sirens and - looking in the rearview mirror - Doyle saw the flashing lights closing in on them.

'Doyle…' he heard Cordelia say, nervously. She was gripping onto the door of the car as the Irishman forced the car to go faster and faster. 'I know,' he said to her, 'it's OK - I know how to drive a getaway car.' He wrenched the wheel right and took them down the next block.

...

Later - when he had managed to successfully shake the cops, Doyle pulled the car off the highway and parked up. 'We can't outrun 'em forever, he said - it's only a matter of time.'

'Man I aint never seen so many cruisers,' Gunn said. Fred scanned around the road - her eyes wide and frightened. 'Makes sense,' she said, 'we're the only criminals left in town. Of course they're all coming for us.'

'Yeah, there's no way we're driving out of this,' Angel said, 'it's time we disappeared.'

...

When the police helicopters finally picked up the Plymouth and shone their searchlights down on it, it was to find the vehicle abandoned. There was no sign of the fugitive apostates. The helicopter wheeled away, believing them lost - not giving a second thought to the manhole cover in the road, not ten paces away from the deserted car.

* * *

'It's always the sewers,' Cordelia muttered, as they splashed their way through the tunnels. 'You ever noticed that, Doyle?' she turned to the man beside her, they were holding hands as they walked. 'It's always the sewers?'

'Yeah - I have spotted a general sewer theme throughout our lives, darlin'.' They continued walking, following the others. Angel was leading the way - he had the best knowledge of the tunnels, and the best vision down in the dark. Up ahead of the young couple, Lorne was huffing and puffing. 'Yeah, I'm moving, Angel cakes,' he panted, 'Might not look like it, but inside, where it counts, I'm runnin'. Full speed ahead, believe me.'

'Won't take them long to figure out…' Angel started to say, glancing back, before he realised that the rest of his team were as wiped as Lorne was. Their faces were pale and wan, they were stumbling forward as they tried to keep themselves going, but they were barely keeping up with him. He relented. 'One minute.'

Fred came to a stop and leaned against the wall of the tunnels. She closed her eyes and put her hand to her side, nursing a stitch. 'I doubt anyone under her control knows these tunnels better than you,' she said to the vampire.

'Yeah, might buy us some time,' he conceded. But that wasn't good enough for Gunn. 'Time to do what?' he asked, 'get all skanky and starve to death? I mean what are we doin'?'

Angel looked annoyed. 'You know what? I don't know what we're gonna do, Gunn. I don't have a plan. Now, I guess this whole Jasmine world order thing kind of took me by surprise.'

'Well I aint eatin' no rats,' Gunn snapped at him - getting into his face.

'Good, neither am I,' Angel snapped back.

'Alright then, plan's comin' together.'

'Glad to see you're on board,'

'Guys!' Cordelia interrupted their bickering. She and Doyle had sat down, leaning their backs against the wall. He had rested his head on her shoulder, and her head was rested on top of his. She stared at the pair of them with bleary eyes, 'can we not do this? I know everything sucks. I know how much you both hurt without her - believe me - we're all hurting too. But can we not be at each other's throats? It doesn't help.'

'Amen to that,' Lorne said, also sinking to the ground. Angel and Gunn looked abashed and scuffled apart.

Cordelia raised her head and shifted slightly so she could get a better look at Doyle. 'How're you doing?' she asked him. As the more naturally athletically inclined of the two, Cordelia was faring a little better than her boyfriend, in their frantic stumble to safety. When Doyle didn't use his demon half to give him an edge, he only had the normal stamina of a short man with a bad drinking habit who assiduously avoided the gym. He didn't even have long legs to fall back on - like Lorne and Gunn. Cordelia, at least, had three years hardcore varsity cheerleader practice on her side. She looked at him, worried.

'I'm OK,' he assured her, 'I've had lotsa practice runnin' away from people who wanna kill me. I'll be fine. You?'

'I'm fine,' she said, quickly. Too quickly. He lifted his head from her shoulder, and raised an eyebrow at her, suspiciously. 'You don't sound it,' he said.

'I just …' she lowered her eyes. 'I miss her,' she said quietly. 'I know I shouldn't but ...without her I just feel empty - and cold.'

'It'll get better,' he promised her, wrapping his arm around her. She leaned her head against him, this time. 'At least you don't have to feel that,' she said to him. 'You never loved her, so you don't have to feel what it's like to lose her.'

'No…' he twisted his mouth into a grimace, glad that Cordelia could no longer see his expression - and thought about what he did feel. The disgust at having had that rotten decaying thing inside of him. Tainted and dirty. 'I don't have to feel _that_.'

Silence descended upon the small, exhausted group - the only sound was the sound of the heavy breathing coming from the living members. They all sat slumped, heads down, quiet. Angel eyed them - if they stayed much longer they wouldn't get back up again. 'Right,' he announced, 'rest's over.' They all stared up at him in dismay, but he was adamant, 'we gotta keep moving. Time to go.'

They wearily staggered back to their feet and once more began to stumble their way down the tunnels - no idea where they were headed, but too afraid to stay still. They didn't hear, beneath the sound of their own unsteady footsteps and their ragged breathing, an eerie clicking noise emanating from a grate beneath their feet.

* * *

The Groosalug sat on the edge of Kali's bed, holding her hand. He turned his head, when his excellent hearing picked up on the slightest noise by the door - and smiled when he saw Jasmine standing there. 'Groo,' she said to him.

'My Lady.'

'Why are you here?' she asked. He turned back to look at Kali's peaceful face, 'sometimes I miss her,' he told the higher power, 'and sometimes I just want to thank her for giving me you.'

'My mother meant a lot to you,' Jasmine smiled.

'I vowed to protect her with my life - whilst she carried you. And now she is beyond my protection. I wish … it is my hope that she will wake again. She loved you so much - it would mean so much to her to see you - what you are, what she brought into this world.'

The smile fell from Jasmine's face, her brow crinkled into a frown. 'See what she brought into this world…' she repeated, slowly, to herself.

Groo didn't notice. 'She could see the goodness you have done - that she helped bring about. She could receive the honour we all bestow upon her as she sleeps - she could feel it - and know what she had done.'

'People do honour my mother,' Jasmine said, 'and yet her room is no longer a shrine - the furniture… the candles…'

'I do not know how they came to be overturned,' Groo admitted, looking around at the mess. 'I shall fix it.'

'No,' Jasmine said, stopping him from getting up. 'I know what happened here. They came. The apostates Fred and Angel, and my father, came back to the hotel. They managed to infect some of the others with their hate - and then they fled again, like the cowards they are.'

The Groosalug bowed his head, 'that grieves me deeply,' he said. 'Are they all lost?'

'No,' she told him, 'they didn't manage to get them all. Wesley is still true - and Connor. I am keeping them close. It is only a matter of time before the renegades come back for them. I won't be letting them out from under my protection.' She stared at Kali's peaceful face for a moment, 'leave us,' she said to Groo. 'I wish to be alone with my mother.'

* * *

The gang walked on through the sewer - Angel still leading the way. Fred and Lorne were straggling in the back, stumbling along, forlornly. Lorne gave Fred a worried glance, 'You look a little down, sugarplum,' he said to her, 'what is it?'

'It's Wesley - and Connor. I just … I can't stop thinking about them back there. I know it was right, we couldn't bring little Connor to this awful place,' she glanced around the dark, dank tunnels, 'but…'

'Wesley's in a lot of danger,' Lorne said finishing her sentence, 'and if anything happens to him - Connor has no one.'

'Not until we can get him back … if we can get him back.'

'We'll get him back,' Angel's voice cut in from the front. 'We'll live through this - we'll defeat this and we'll get Connor back… I got him back before. Twice.'

'And somehow we'll manage to wake up the whole city from this livin' nightmare,' Doyle said, trying to change the subject from the previous kidnaps of Connor - the first of which being his doing. 'Um - any ideas o' how we're actually gonna do that bit, bud?'

Beside him, Cordelia shook her head. 'We're the ones living in a nightmare,' she told Doyle, 'they're all living in a blissful, dream reality. It's our reality that sucks. I miss her.'

'I know, princess - but free will is better than being a mind controlled zombie, bending to the will of an evil being, yeah?'

'Technically. But … I miss her warmth. I miss knowing exactly what's right - and that I'm doing right, just by loving her. There was this certainty she gave me…'

Doyle chuckled, 'you're the most certain person I've ever met, darlin'. You don't need Jasmine, you never did. She's a drug for the weak-willed - not the champions.' He leaned over and kissed her, a quick peck on the lips, as they continued to walk. She smiled at him, 'you always know what to say,' she said to him, 'apparently even when I'm on the world's trippiest come down.'

'One hell of a drug to go cold turkey,' Gunn muttered.

'I remember the first time she took me aside at that fight at the bowling alley,' Fred reminisced. Her face lit up with a smile at the memory - but then the smile became sad and bittersweet. 'Me, pale, frail Winifred Burkle, sitting with a goddess, and she was asking me what her name should be.'

'She didn't have a name?' Doyle turned to look at Fred in surprise. 'She came into the world fully formed … and disgustin'. She already knew everythin'. I thought…'

'We named her after the flowers growing in the garden,' Cordelia told him, 'she loved their scent so much. She didn't have a name until we gave it to her. She said… she said all beings that come into this world are named by those that love them.' Like Fred, her face wore a bittersweet smile.

'Huh…' Doyle frowned. 'Is that weird? She's like a bazillion years old and no one ever called her nothin' before?'

'Now that you mention it,' Lorne said, 'but maybe it was just something really embarrassing, like Hester or Peanut…'

'Or Francis,' Cordelia squeezed Doyle's hand, teasingly.

'Hey!' His protesting voice suddenly went up in surprise and alarm as - ahead of him - the floor gave way and Angel and Gunn, who had been leading the group, tumbled into the hole.

Gunn grabbed hold of the broken edge of the floor as he tumbled - and he dangled in mid air, until Doyle got to his side and grabbed his hand. 'I got you,' the Irishman said - and he heaved with all his might to haul Gunn back up.

Angel had been less lucky. He too had grabbed at the edge of the floor, but the plank he held had given way, and he had tumbled down. He hit the ground and stared up - seeing his friends in the tunnel above, staring down at him. Suddenly, the team backed up, turning in surprise - and for a moment Angel could see no one, and then a gang of teenagers appeared at the edge of the hole, each brandishing sharp wooden sticks - and pointing them down at Angel...


	78. Sacrifice: Part Two

_Part Two_

Angel stared upwards, 'guys?' he called up to his team - unable to see them past the kids holding sharpened sticks. 'We're fine,' he heard Cordy call back. But the lead kid did not seem to agree with her assessment. 'No,' he said - his voice held the hint of a threat in it. 'You're not fine until we tell you you're fine.'

'Oh please,' Angel heard Cordelia say. He imagined her folding her arms and looking unimpressed.

'Holly, you good?' the leader of the small teenage gang asked the girl in their midst. When she nodded she was he turned to another young man, this one had his stick pointed squarely in Lorne's face. 'Trip - that ugly-ass beastie so much as breathes wrong, you stick him.'

'Ugly-ass?' Lorne repeated, frowning, 'hey!' But the leader ignored him - and instead glowered down the hole at Angel, pointing his weapon right at him.

'You know, I kind of have a thing about people pointing sharp wooden… gimme that.' With one leap, Angel super jumped out of the hole - and landed on his feet, where he immediately pulled the sharp stick from the boy's hand and then hit him - sending him stumbling away. Angel turned and started beating on the next kid, and beside him he felt his team join in - following his cue to start fighting back. But he soon called them off. The kids were not putting up much of a defence - though they were trying - but they definitely weren't fighting like a well oiled machine of love. However they'd managed it - these kids were free from Jasmania.

Gunn still held the gang leader by the collar, pinning him against the tunnel wall. 'Gunn, let him go,' Angel said to him. Reluctantly, the street fighter dropped his hold on the kid. But the kid was now staring at him. 'Gunn?' he asked, 'Charles Gunn?'

'I say you can use my name?' Gunn snapped at him.

'I say you can use my ride without payin' the piper?'

Gunn looked confused, 'payin' the piper?' and then his face smoothed out as realisation hit him. 'Tommy Golden's little brother? Randall?' He laughed, 'Little ass Randall Golden, man. This punk stole my car when he was 12 years old,' he told the others. But then the laughter died on his face as an eerie noise echoed through the tunnels, a clicking and a moaning noise that came from a distance. Gunn glanced back at the kid from his old gang. 'OK - what the hell was that?' he asked.

* * *

The Groosalug arrived back in the doorway - Jasmine was still sat on the bed. 'I am sorry, my true Lady,' he said to her, smiling, 'but I wished to …' he trailed off as he saw that the bed was now empty. 'The Lady Kalimania?' he asked,

Jasmine twisted so she could look at him. 'I figured it out,' she told him, 'where their hate stems from. Fred used my blood to infect Angel - mixed it with his when she shot us both with the same bullet. And then they used my father's blood to infect the rest of them. My family's blood is powerful - and dangerous to us all. Kali's too. If she falls into hateful hands - then this hate will spread.'

'But where is she?'

'Right where I want her to be,' Jasmine told him, getting to her feet. 'I moved her to keep her safe. No one can know where. Now come - let's ...'

But the Groosalug didn't appear to be listening. He was still standing in the doorway - and there was a thoughtful, concerned crease between his eyebrows - he was worrying about something. 'What is it?' Jasmine asked him.

'Forgive me, Lady,' he bowed his head apologetically, but the crease stayed where it was, 'but I do not understand. How can it be that your own blood is dangerous to you? It is yours. How can something that is yours turn people against you?'

Jasmine stared at him - long and hard - and the crease above his nose deepened, and his eyes became sorrowful. 'I have angered you, I'm sorry.'

'An undefeated champion should not ask questions,' Jasmine said to him. 'When champions start to think they start to second guess themselves - and that is when champions start to lose.' She took a step towards him, rested her hand on his cheek and stared deep into his eyes, 'you are my right arm - my warrior, my protector. You protected me when I was inside my mother and you stand by me now, when other, lesser champions are lost. I could not bear to see you lose to them because you gave into the weakness of thought.'

'The Groosalug is a match for any champion this world has to throw at him. And it is my honour to protect My lady.'

'You're such a good, dear, sweet boy. I want to keep you that way. No more thinking. No more questions. That is how we lost Angel - he started to think. I cannot lose you as well.'

He bowed his head again. 'As you wish, my lady, I vow to ask no more questions - to think no more. I shall follow you, do as you ask without fear or hesitation.'

'My champion,' she smiled at him, 'now come on - there is more work to be done.' She left the room and - after a fleeting backward glance at the now empty bed - Groo followed on behind.

* * *

The sewer gang led the team to their hideout; a grated off alcove in the tunnels. Cordelia's nose wrinkled as she looked around, but she didn't say anything. Instead she sank down onto the floor, grateful to have found a resting place of reasonable safety. Doyle sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her. 'Still doin' OK?' he asked her.

'I guess. You?'

He nodded. She leaned in to kiss him, a brief peck on the lips. 'Makes me feel almost sorry for Lilah,' she said, looking around the tunnel. 'Living in a place like this - all alone, in her case - never knowing when it was gonna be safe to come back out, when she was gonna get her life back. No wonder she tried to let Angelus out of his cage.'

Doyle rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, exhausted. 'Yeah … struggling to whip up any sympathy for _Lilah Morgan_, myself - Mrs. Evil 2003. Remember that time she tried to throw me in jail for ten years? And the time she drove me mad with my own visions? Or - an oldie but a goodie - the time she attacked me with me own visions and left me lookin' like the elephant man? Even you were grossed out by my honking pustules. I don't consider myself a vengeful person, darlin' … but a stint in the sewers seems like just desserts where she's concerned, yeah?.'

'Well - I did say 'almost'.'

'That you did, Princess, that you did.' He opened his eyes and leaned towards her for another kiss. 'I'm glad I'm not alone down here,' he said to her, quietly. 'I'm glad I got you.'

'Likewise.'

'And how're y' feelin' - with the whole …missin' Jasmine thing?'

She took a deep breath. 'It's getting better… no, really, it is. What with running from her, getting attacked by the teenage mutant ninja sewer orphans and making our way to this place … I've not had a whole lot of time to think about the sucking void in my chest.'

'Avoidance,' he smiled wryly, 'always a good tactic … I mean, apart from when I try it and I end up drinkin' myself down to the bottom of whatever ladder I've managed to crawl up.'

She snuggled closer to him, he wrapped his arm more tightly around her. 'Yeah, it's probably best if you tackle things head on,' she said to him, closing her own eyes. 'Trying to lose yourself - hoping your problems just go away - that never really works for you.'

He tensed. 'I don't think it really works for anyone,' he said, stiffly. She raised her head as she felt the change in his demeanour and looked at him, frowning. 'What is it?' she asked - 'what's wrong?'

'Jasmine,' he said briefly.

'Well, yeah … but it's not like you ever loved her so …'

'I never loved her,' he agreed, 'but… she's a part of me.' He sighed. If they were right - and he shouldn't use avoidance as a tactic - then he should probably tell Cordy what was going on inside of him. All of it - the ugly truth and then some. Maybe it would help. Maybe it would stop him hitting the big red self destruct button that it seemed he was always so close to pressing. 'Back when you were in the cult you were all so eager to remind me that she's my daughter.'

'Well - she is - but that doesn't mean…'

'But - it's more than that,' he interrupted her. 'More than just guilt and shame over helpin' to create some disgustin' hellbeastie lookin' to end the world. It's ... She was inside o' me, drivin' me - makin' me do things.'

'We talked about this - before all the madness set in. That wasn't you.' He could see her eyes shining in the dark. She was staring straight at him now, watching him carefully as he tried to explain his feelings to her - almost holding her breath as she waited to hear what it was that was troubling him.

'No - it wasn't,' he agreed, nodding his head slowly. 'And now she's her own separate person, I guess I can deal with the things I did while I was possessed … 'cause I can see the thing that really did 'em. I know it was my hands that killed that little boy, his family, but I know it was really her. I'm not to blame. I get that - I do.'

'So… what's the problem?' Her brow was lowered as she listened to him, concerned but confused. Her eyes were dark.

'The problem is - I can see her. What she is. The decay, the rotting flesh, the maggots…' he squirmed uncomfortably. 'And that was what was inside o' me - for a long time, too, I took her in on my Birthday and I didn't pass her along until the sun went out. All that … disgustin' … was inside o' me for months. And it makes me feel…' he sighed again. 'When I found out about my demon half, I felt dirty,' he told Cordelia, 'like there was this thing inside o' me, tarnishin' me, staining my soul … making me not good enough to be in the world with all the normal people.'

'And that was nuts and you've come to terms with it,' Cordelia said. Her voice was brittle, brooking no nonsense - and Doyle realised that meant she was worried for him. Her voice always went harder when she was scared.

'Yeah - I guess I have,' he agreed, nodding his head, slowly. Appreciating her concern - and the way she never wavered on believing his demon half was no big deal. No matter where he let it lead him. 'Over the years - I've realised that most o' my problems stemmed from myself, my own weaknesses… that the demon wasn't the cause o' that. I guess I've even realised that the demon isn't damaging me or taintin' me - it _is_ me. And it always was. I'm as much demon as I am human and it doesn't matter what species I am - I'm still me. And - even if I'm not the … most _upstandin' citizen_ the world has to offer - I'm not a bad guy. I make mistakes, sure, disastrous mistakes usually - but I don't deliberately set out to hurt people. I try to help people. Even over the summer, when I was alone and not gettin' any visions - I still went out on patrol most nights. Tried to help the hopeless - even if I was one o' 'em. That should count for somethin'.'

'It does,' Cordelia assured him, snuggling closer again. 'You're a good man. You try your best with what you have, and you always get back up again when you've been knocked down. You never stop fighting - it's why I love you. Why I always will.'

'Yeah?' he raised a quizzical eyebrow. It felt good to hear her say she loved him, again. It made him happy, even amongst the misery - and he couldn't help but smile. '- Nothin' to do with my dreamy eyes or ripplin' biceps?'

'You don't have rippling biceps, Doyle, you don't have biceps at all.'

'But my eyes _are_ dreamy.'

'OK, you're eyes _are_ dreamy and your dimple's kinda cute … but all your best features are on the inside.' She rested her head on his shoulder, and looked up at him from there. 'That being said - what has all this got to do with Jasmine?'

He wrapped his other arm around her as well, so she was entirely encompassed in his embrace. The smile that had lit up as his face, as he had teased her, faded away again - and he thought, again, about the way Jasmine's presence inside of himself left him feeling sickened and violated - and how he could say all that to Cordelia. And whether or not he could bring himself to look her in the face once he was finished confessing. 'I guess - what I'm tryin' to say is - me findin' out about my demon half left me feelin' dirty, like I wasn't really me anymore 'cause somethin' else had got inside. And I couldn't get rid o' it. I pretty much destroyed my entire life because o' that feelin'. But Jasmine gettin' inside o' me … that feels ten times worse than the demon thing. It's like - I'm unclean and there's nothin' I can ever do to _be_ clean ever again. I'm afraid her rot has got into my soul. And I'm afraid of what I'll do because of that … where I'll end up this time.'

'You're afraid your soul's covered in maggots?' She wrapped her own arm across his chest, hugging him back. 'I don't think that's true.'

He glanced down at her, smiling slightly at the way she had phrased his fears. Somehow it had taken a lot of the shame away, saying it like that. Removed the sting. 'You don't?'

'No - Jasmine is powerful and ancient and terrible. She's complete. I could see that - back when I loved her.' Cordelia's brow wrinkled as she tried to articulate exactly what she meant - how she was so sure that there was no Jasmine still inside of Doyle, making him dirty. 'She knows exactly what she is,' she explained, 'controls exactly what she is - it's why she's able to win over everyone - she's complete in a way no one else is. We're all searching for something. Jasmine's not searching for anything - she knows every cell of herself. She didn't leave anything behind when she left you - or Kali. We wouldn't worship her if she wasn't complete. Sure she was inside of you, but every last drop of her transferred from you to Kali - and then from Kali to her current body. There's nothing left of her inside of you.'

Another thought struck her. 'And, when you get right down to it, she isn't even really your daughter, is she? She existed for a bazillion years before you were born - how could she be? Her current body might have some of your DNA but … I wouldn't be adding her to the Doyle family tree just yet. Whatever she is, she was exactly that aeons before you were born - and if we don't find a way to stop her, will be exactly that aeons after we're dead. You're barely a footnote in her existence... Except for the blood thing.'

Cordy's face smoothed out - as she thought she had managed to say what she meant, correctly. Made Doyle understand the truth. But her voice became stronger and more determined as she gave out her final pearls of wisdom. 'She's herself. Completely. She used you and then she left you. There's nothing of you in her and there's nothing of her in you. Feel violated. Feel grossed out by the maggots - God knows I am - but _do not _start thinking that you're somehow unworthy of everything you have, just because you got possessed a little bit, one time. She's gone from you - and you're yourself again. And you said it yourself, you're a pretty great guy.'

'You really don't think she's still a part o' me?' Doyle asked her. 'You don't look at me and see her?'

'Of course not, doofus! You're a victim of her - as much as anyone, more than anyone - except Kali, I guess. I don't look at you and see the thing that hurt you - I just see you.' She closed her eyes, again. 'Not that it matters what I think,' she told him, 'it's you that has to believe that, has to know it. And I can't really help you there. You just have to remember who you are - and that nothing can stop you from being that person unless you choose to let it.'

'I guess that makes sense,' he said, closing his own eyes and resting his head on top of hers. 'How come you always know best?'

'I'm Cordelia Chase, dumb ass. You have your super powers, I have mine.'

He couldn't help smiling at that - and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head before settling down to try and get some sleep. It had helped. They had been right - avoidance didn't work for him. He wasn't all right - he didn't know when he would be, if he ever would be - but he was doing better. And that was enough for now.

...

Meanwhile, studiously ignoring the embracing couple on the ground, Angel was inspecting their surroundings, checking that the grates were holding fast. He wasn't listening in to Doyle and Cordy - but his vampire hearing meant that he caught every murmured word as clear as day. Between losing Cordy to Doyle, Connor to Jasmine and Jasmine to brutal reality, he didn't feel like his heart could take the ache of any more loss. So he pushed the pain down as low as he could shove it and carried on checking their perimeter was secure; tuning in to the conversation Gunn was holding with Randall, instead.

...

'Tommy was running our unit when the sun went out,' Randall was saying.

'Tommy used to soldier for my crew, back in the old days' Gunn explained to Fred and Lorne, 'until he broke off and went solo.' He patted Randall on the back and smiled at him, 'took his punk ass, car thief younger brother with him. What happened to you when this little apocalypse kicked off?'

'We tried to stay topside as long as we could,' Randall told him, 'tried to hold on to some ground. But there were too many of them.' So they had hidden here and set up traps, in the sewers, and they checked them daily - but they hadn't caught anything today.

The eerie sound came again - distant and eldritch, echoing through the tunnels - bouncing off the curved walls. 'What is that?' Fred asked - unnerved.

Randall shrugged, 'we never got a clean shot at it. But it's not like anythin' I've ever seen.'

...

The youngest of the sewer gang appeared at Angel's side, as the vampire tested the bars of the grates. 'They're your crew aren't they? You're the leader,' the little boy said. Angel looked at him. 'I'm Mathew,' the kid said. Angel said nothing and went to check another grate. Mathew followed on behind. 'It's OK - all the other ways in are grated off. We checked.'

'Well now I'm checking.' He wasn't going to take some kid's word for it that his people were safe. And keeping busy stopped him from feeling too deeply. Stopped him aching for Connor. Stopped him watching Cordelia wrapped in Doyle's arms. Stopped him from pounding the tunnel walls over and over again until his frustration was vented and his knuckles bled.

...

Fred watched Mathew follow Angel around. 'He's so young,' she said, softly. Randall glanced at him, 'We found him in a pile-up on La Brea. Vamps laid tire traps on the road, havin' themselves a car-wreck picnic. He watched them murder his parents. They were comin' after him when we showed up.'

Lorne shook his head, 'there's been so much loss,' he said, 'lives will never be the same again - but when you see it affect someone so young…' he trailed off and shook his head again.

'So how'd you end up here?' Gunn asked the kids.

'I knew about this place,' the girl - Holly - told them. 'I used to crash up here nights when the missions were full.'

'So we hit a supermarket that hadn't been burned down yet,' Randall continued, 'got some supplies and went under. Been down here ever since - 'bout two weeks and some change.'

Lorne glanced around the dank, damp little tunnel. 'Uh - no offence - but two weeks down here and I'd be ready to move back in with my mother.'

'Yeah, well, we were holdin' our own. Occasional baddie lookin' for a place to sleep, nothin' we couldn't handle. Till that thing out there moved into our territory. It's been pickin' us off ever since.'

'It got Tommy almost a week ago,' Holly said. 'He was out resetting the traps.'

Fred closed her eyes - trying to stave off the misery of this place. But when she opened them again it was just as dark and oppressive. There was a steady dripping sound coming from overhead. And - somewhere in the distance - an unseen, unknowable monster lurked, waiting to pick them off one by one. 'I can't believe you stayed down here,' she said to the two teenagers.

But Holly only shrugged, again. It was worse up above ground. The whole world was ending - what did it matter where they went?

'Besides,' Randall sniffed, 'whatever that evil son-of-a-bitch is, it killed our people, killed my brother. We're gonna kill him right back.'

'It's weird us running into you like this,' Fred told them, 'I mean - we're professional monster killers.' She looked around - taking in what was left of the team: Angel, silently and morosely checking the grates - trying to block out the pain; Gunn and Lorne looking dejected and as lost as she felt - and Doyle and Cordy, wrapped up in each others arms, unable to stave off the exhaustion any longer. Her face became sad and her tone uncertain, 'at least - we were.'

'Are, Fred,' Angel corrected her, finally turning from the grates and joining in the discussion. He picked up a sword which lay on the ground. 'We are.'

'Hey!' Randall protested, looking at the sword, 'that was Tommy's.'

'Well now it's mine.' He looked round at his team. 'Let's go get professional on this evil son of a bitch's ass.' And he walked out of the safety of the alcove, heading back down the tunnels - trusting that his team would follow him.

* * *

Jasmine sat at the desk in her room, talking on the phone. The Groosalug stood watching her from the doorway. Wesley sat inside the room- in one of the armchairs, Connor clutched tightly in his lap. She had been true to her word - keeping him close so that the others couldn't get to him, hoping to stop him being infected like the rest of his family. She had no idea it was already too late. But it meant that Wesley had no respite - no chance to hide, to take great gasping lungfuls of air as he tried to regain his equilibrium and adjust to the horror. He had to sit there and stare - for hours - at her putrefying flesh, at the maggots crawling in and out of her blank eyeholes, and the blood oozing from her rotting skin - and suppress his need to vomit in fear. He closed his eyes briefly - and took a deep breath - squeezing the baby on his knee. This was for Connor. It was all for Connor. He could withstand anything if it meant keeping his surrogate son safe.

'Yes of course,' Jasmine said into the phone, 'drop by any time. And thank you for calling.' She hung up and began to laugh.

'Good news?' Wesley asked her, trying to hide the strain in his voice.

'Very.'

'Then it grieves me to be the bearer of sad tidings,' the Groosalug told her from the doorway. She turned to look at him. He bowed his head, 'we have heard from the 'policemen' who guard this realm. They say they lost sight of the renegades hours ago. My Lady - there is no greater tracker, in this world or any other, than myself. I beg you, let me find them for you. Let me bring them back to you.'

Jasmine shook her head slightly and walked towards the window - staring out at the city below. It was night time and the lights twinkled across the skyline - replacing the stars which could never be seen in L.A. 'Soon,' she said to the Groosalug, 'soon you will go out with all my strength behind you. But first we have to celebrate.' She turned to look at both men, smiling. The Groosalug smiled back - basking in the warmth of her glow and radiance. Wesley's rictus grin was more of a pained grimace - as he sought to hide his horror, as the putrid gash across her face stretched from ear. 'That was the governor on the phone,' she told them, 'very agreeable. He's dissolving his administration tonight.' She turned back to stare out of the window once again - and something inside of Wesley unclenched with relief now he could no longer see her monstrous face.

'The time of the politician is over,' she said. 'The State answers to me now.' She began to laugh. 'Oh - it's happening - don't you feel it?'

Wesley felt many things - none of them good - and his sense of foreboding was only growing stronger, as it became apparent that Jasmine had started infiltrating the real echelons of human power. Her reach extended to the governor of California, now, but how long until she had control of the White House - and through that NATO? Every government the world over would fall to her. The evil of her spell could fly across the continents without her ever leaving the Hyperion. And there would be nowhere left for the others to run - to hide - and Wesley would remain trapped beside her, but only as long as he could keep up his pretence. He did not fool himself it could last forever.

'The world is about to kneel before me, and shed all its avarice, all its woe.' Jasmine said to them both. Wesley strove to keep his face impassive - and then remembered impassive wasn't good enough, and plastered on a simpering smile - similar to the one the Grooslaug wore. She turned to face them again, 'I will free them from the loneliness, from the empty horror of their lives.' She laughed again. 'They won't know what hit them.'

'I'm sure of that,' Wesley said to her, through gritted teeth.

'And you will be at my side - both of you - and Connor too. We will live in a palace built by the love of billions. It will make the Pyramids of Giza look like the headstones in a pauper's graveyard.'

'It seems strange,' Wesley said quietly, almost to himself, 'that a supreme being who is here to shed the world of its avarice desires a palace for themselves that will outshine the wonders of the world.'

'What was that?' Jasmine asked him. He cleared his throat, 'I - uh - I just said that you, yourself, outshine the wonders of the ancient world.'

She smiled beneficently, pleased with his praise. But the Groosalug - who had trained for many years to hone his hearing skills as befits a warrior - who could hear the cry of the wamblattling bird from over three leagues away - had heard Wesley's true words. And that crease had returned between his eyebrows.

* * *

The team walked down the tunnels, the sewer gang were with them - though Fred was not happy about this. 'They're just kids,' she protested to Angel.

'Strength in numbers,' he replied.

'Angel -'

He swung round to look at her. 'They just wanna strike back, Fred,' he told her. 'At something. Anything. I know how that feels.' He got it - he did. Leading kids into battle was wrong. But they wanted them some vengeance - and if he didn't take them with, they'd go it alone. And then he and his own people wouldn't be there to protect them, when they came up against whatever this beastie was.

Some of the team had borrowed makeshift weapons from the sewer gang. Lorne had a hockey stick which he held out in front of him awkwardly. 'I ever tell you at suck at sports?'

Cordelia laughed - 'I bet you're not as bad as chicken little,' she said, nudging Doyle, playfully, as they walked along together. 'He once told his gym teacher he had chronic diarrhoea for a month just to get out of hurling something … or something.'

'To get out of _hurling_,' Doyle corrected her, 'it's an old Irish sport - hence why we had to speak Irish when we did it. There's nothin' like gettin' hit in the nose by a leather ball travellin' at 50 miles an hour 'cause you have no idea what everyone's jabberin' on about around you.' He shook his head at the painful memories of a sliotar to the face. 'I really shouldda learned the Irish for 'look out!''

'If you'd just paid attention in class…' Cordelia pointed out, 'maybe your nose wouldn't have to be quite so tragic.'

'Hey!' his hand flew defensively to his nose - and Cordelia laughed in delight. 'There's one word you know in Irish,' she said to him, nudging him again. 'What's Irish for diarrhoea, Doyle?'

'_Buinneach,_' he told her, without hesitation.

'_Gesundheit_,' she giggled. He chuckled along with her, and linked his arm through hers. Having Cordy back, teasing and laughing like they used to, it felt indescribably wonderful. He was almost able to push away the feeling of having been corrupted, polluted, by Jasmine. Almost. As insane as it seemed, these hours down in the sewer - terrified, hunted and on the run, had been some of the happiest he had had in over a year. If he could just make himself come to terms with what had been done to him, convince himself that he wasn't different now - wasn't dirty - this time in the sewer would be pretty near perfect.

But him and Cordy were the only ones able to salvage some happiness from the ashes of their situation. In front of them, the others had come to a stop. 'This is where Tommy was taken,' Mathew said.

Fred sniffed and looked around uneasily. 'What's that smell?' she asked.

'It's ammonia,' Angel told her. They all looked about, wondering how this creature was taking people from here. And then Randall screamed and disappeared upward. They all rushed to look - and saw the opening of a vertical pipe embedded in the ceiling. Something was inside of it, growling, and it had snatched Randall from amongst them.

As soon as he saw what was happening, Angel had jumped up the pipe after the young boy. The others stood down on the ground and stared up, helplessly, as they heard the sound of fighting overhead. And then Randall dropped back down the pipe and landed in a heap on the floor. Holly rushed to his side. The sounds of the fight died off - and Angel jumped back down to them - vamp face on.

Mathew took one look at the ridges, the fangs and the yellow eyes - and remembered the faces of the monsters who had killed his parents. He screamed and began to run away back down the tunnel. Angel called after him - but it was no use, he wasn't listening. In a blind panic, he fled away from the face of his nightmares. Angel made to follow him but then Fred screamed - and he turned, seeing the shape of the creature the sewer gang had spoken about grabbing hold of her. He swung his sword and the creature skittered away.

Angel turned to Gunn, 'If Mathew reaches the surface…' he said. Gunn looked grim, 'we'll get him,' he promised - and he grabbed Fred and the pair of them splashed down the tunnel after the little boy. Then Angel turned to the rest of his friends. 'That thing is really pissing me off,' he said, 'Lorne, Doyle, Cordy…'

'Ja wohl,' Lorne said. But Angel was just staring at the two men - horrified realisation spreading across his face. 'Where's Cordy?' he asked.

* * *

The creature dropped Cordelia to the ground in the middle of its lair. She rolled and then picked herself up, shaking her short hair out of her eyes so she could get a good look at it. Seeing it - she immediately wished she hadn't. It was grey and skinny, it's body segmented like an insect. It made a clicking noise like an insect, as well - and had pincers for hands. It had four legs and two arms. Six limbs … yep she was going with demonic insect. Another one. She hated demon insects.

It walked up to her, on its four legs - its movements jerky - making its awful clicking sound, angrily. It was angry with her. For some reason, this creature she had never met before was furious with her. It pushed its grey face right up into hers. 'We loved her first!' it hissed.


	79. Sacrifice: Part Three

_Part Three_

Angel was squatting down on the sewer floor - inspecting where Cordelia had been taken. Lorne stood beside him, 'It took Cordy?' he asked.

'Yeah it must have looped around behind us.'

Doyle was pacing up and down, his hands were buried in his hair - making it all stand out on end, wildly. He was breathing heavily. 'Dammit!' he kicked the wall of the tunnel, 'how could we let this happen?' There was anger in his voice - and barely concealed panic. He resumed his pacing. Angel glanced up at him, 'look, I'll find her, OK?' He looked back at Lorne, 'it knows these tunnels better than I do,' he said, 'but I'll track them - I know Cordy's scent, I can follow her anywhere.'

Doyle kicked the tunnel wall again. Angel glanced back at him, before continuing his conversation with Lorne. 'You take Doyle and the others back to the fort. Wait for Fred and Gunn.'

'No way, man,' Doyle interrupted, stopping his pacing and coming to stand over Angel and glowered down at him. 'No way am I goin' back to the safehouse and just waitin' patiently to find out if you managed to rescue Cordelia - or if that thing did … whatever it does to her. I'm coming with.'

Angel stood back up and stared at him, looking like he was about to argue - but then the will to fight just seemed to drain out of him. 'OK,' he said, 'but I'm not slowing down for you - I'm not endangering Cordelia just so that you can feel better about being in on the rescue party. You keep up - or you get left behind.'

Doyle morphed into his spikes, 'I can keep up,' he said. He ignored the ripple of horror that passed through the kids from the sewer gang as they saw his other face.

'Right then, let's go. Lorne - ' Angel spoke to the anagogic demon one last time, 'get them back to their den.' He made to leave - but Randall had other ideas. 'Nuhuh Dracula,' he raised his weapons - and Holly and the other boy did likewise, 'not OK.'

* * *

'Yeah, OK,' Cordelia wrinkled her nose and scooched back along the floor, away from the insect-like demon. 'You loved her first, good for you... Who are we talking about?'

'Before your kind was, my kind loved her. Stood stone on stone, built the temple. Always making ready.' It suddenly squealed out - as if in pain, 'ohhh!' It looked up at the ceiling, 'but she came here.' It's voice was filled with sadness and longing and the pain of rejection.

'What's your damage?'

'Forever waiting, forever praising. Loving her. And she comes here. Chooses your kind.'

'Ohhh - I get it.' Her eyes widened as realisation hit. 'You mean Jasmine … right?'

'Eh?' The insect demon cocked its head to one side and looked confused.

'Jasmine … she of the mocha skin and maggot face. Bestowing her love onto a populace of brainwashed sheep. We call her Jasmine.' Her face wrinkled up again as she thought of something. 'So ... what did you guys call her? If you loved her first? She didn't have a name when she got here.'

But her words only served to make the creature angry. It clicked furiously at her. 'Pfah! You name her,' it muttered, darkly, 'filthy little mice!'

'Hey!'

'She is the devourer … the song … the peace … the whole. And you try to name her.'

'Actually - she was pretty insistent about…' But Cordelia was cut off when a lump of bloody viscera fell to the floor right in front of her. She shrieked and jumped backwards. 'What the hell was that?'

The Creature clicked again, still angry, and turned away from her. 'Work to be done,' it muttered. It walked away from her - but before it vanished into the gloom it snapped its head back to look at her. 'We loved her first,' it snapped.

Cordelia held her hands up in surrender, 'sure ya did, buddy - and, really, you're welcome to her. Really not wanting to cling onto the Jasmine love…' she squinted, as the creature grabbed a torch. The dark side of the cave was suddenly illuminated - and she saw all the blood and gore and guts spattered across the walls. 'Oh gosh! Oh - _ewww!_ What are you doing?' she raised a hand to her mouth to stop herself being sick.

'Praising her. Loving her.'

'By ripping guts out? What kind of insane in the brain kind of love is that?'

'Love the same for all bodies. Everywhere,' the creature told her, getting back to its grisly work, amongst the viscera. 'Love is sacrifice.'

* * *

Fred and Gunn ran down the sewer tunnels - following the sounds of distant splashing as they attempted to track down Mathew before he could make it to the surface. 'Mathew! Mathew!' Gunn hollered.

'You sure he went this way,' Fred asked, scurrying to keep up with Gunn's much longer legs.

'Definitely heard splashing. It must be him.'

'Unless it was another of those skittering creatures,' she suggested. But Gunn's face only darkened at her words. 'Yeah, well, it better skitter its hindquarters outta my way, 'cause I ain't in the mood.'

'It could just be rats,' she said - hoping to lighten his mood. It didn't work. The street fighter came to a dead halt and stared down at her. 'Now what did you go and say a thing like that for?' he shuddered, 'damn!'

'Sorry - ' she shook her head, 'I wasn't …' she had forgotten the way he felt about rats. How could she have forgotten that? Once she knew everything about him. And now - there was so much distance between them they sometimes felt like strangers. 'I'm sure, if it's not Mathew, then it's probably some horrible monster - but definitely not -'

'Look at us,' Gunn cut her off. 'I mean, yesterday we were happy. Happier than I ever thought possible. Now we're trudging through sewage, huntin' some 13-year-old kid to drag his ass back down here so he doesn't find out it's Shangri-la-la land up there.'

'He's scared Charles- think how he feels.'

'Well he's gonna be dead if he makes it topside. Or we are. Is any of this worth it? Is this - living in the sewers - running scared - is it worth giving up Jasmine for? This is the lowest my life has ever been - and it's been plenty low.'

'It was all a lie,' Fred said to him softly, 'now we see the truth.'

'Yeah - but what if the lie is better than the truth?'

But she shook her head. 'I've had a long time to think about this - I've been on the run for over a week now. And I hate it. But no matter how harsh and brutal reality is - it's always better than a lie. A lie can't be sustained, and then the truth just comes rushing back ten times worse than ever. That's where you are - right now. Give it a couple a days - you'll see that free will means more than blind happiness built on evil and empty promises.'

'Free will,' Gunn sighed - and started to walk again. 'The freedom to make our own choices - 'cause we've all been makin' such sparkling choices for ourselves, lately. Maybe we're better off with somethin' telling us what to do. '

'Charles!'

'I mean it. What was the last good decision you made? Or I made? When was the last time somethin' went right for us?'

'Now isn't the time,' she said to him, quietly. But he ignored her. 'What about ol' Wes?' he asked, 'what was the last good choice English made, huh? Stealing Angel's kid? bangin' Lilah? … kissing you?'

'That was one time - a mistake.'

'Exactly. We all make mistakes. We all make mistakes - and the sum total of all the mistakes we've all made, put together, has led us here - living in a sewer, hiding from a higher power with eyes everywhere - and tracking down a kid to make sure they don't realise that everyone's happy up top. You still think it's worth it?'

'It has to be,' Fred told him, sadly, 'there is nothing else.'

* * *

The sewer gang pointed their weapons at the three demon men, barring their path. 'You think I didn't see that back there?' Randall said threateningly, brandishing his stick in Angel's face, 'you're one of them - and him…' he looked over at Doyle's green skin and spikes, 'I don't wanna know what the hell he's turned out to be. The girl that's missin' - what the hell is she, huh?'

'Randall - it's not like that,' Angel said to him, trying to talk him down.

'Yeah - he's telling the truth,' Lorne said.

'Excuse me - not talking to horned demon - talking to vampire. Thank you.'

'All right,' Angel said, keeping his voice calm. 'What you saw - I can't deny that...'

'Angel,' Doyle growled, 'we don't have time.'

Randall pointed the stick at him, 'the vampire's gonna make time - and you're gonna shut your ugly- ass face up - 'cause I aint talking to whatever the hell you are.'

'If anythin' happens to Cordelia, then my ugly ass face is the last thing you'll ever see, whilst I'm rippin' your guts out with my bare hands - get outta my way.'

'Doyle,' Angel's voice had a warning edge to it. They didn't have time to make things worse - they needed to talk the kids down and get out of there. But it was too late.

'So you're a killer? Huh?' Randall demanded of Doyle, 'like the vamp boy, here - you kill people for fun?'

'There's always a first time for everythin' .'

'I should put your ass down.'

'I'd like to see you try.'

'Whatever you are - you aint fit to live,' Randall said in disgust. Doyle looked away from him for a moment, glancing at the floor, and then - with a grunt of frustration and anger - launched himself at the kid - headbutting him in the face with his spikes - and then yanked the stick from his hand, as Randall stumbled backwards - howling in pain. The other two teenagers scattered - falling back in alarm, now the demon was armed.

'Doyle - that's not the way,' he heard Angel yell at him. But he didn't care. He was done talking - he didn't have time for this crap. Every moment Cordelia was missing was a moment she was in danger. And he wasn't taking time out of rescuing her to talk calmly with some punk ass kid about their bigotry.

Randall had tripped over his feet - as he had backed up - and was now sprawled on the floor - staring up, fearfully, at the very angry demon stood above him. 'I don't care what you think o' me,' Doyle said to him, his voice practically shaking with rage. 'I don't care what you think I am. I don't have to justify my existence to you. Now I'm gonna find my girlfriend - and if you even think of gettin' up and stoppin' me, then I will put you down so hard you won't get back up again. Angel!' he called to the vampire - as he stalked off down the tunnel. Angel threw an apologetic glance back at the kids and then followed him.

Lorne looked around at the three teenagers and chuckled uncomfortably. 'You know - I'm sorry about that. He's not usually so histrionic - that's more the big guy's look. But he does get a little overwrought where Cordy's concerned. She's his boo - and … well, he's a sweetie bear normally. You just caught him at a bad moment. And Angel,' he chuckled again, 'he only drinks pig's blood - I mean, you got a give a dead fella props where they're due…' he saw the expressions on the sewer gang's faces, 'or not …' he tailed off.

* * *

Fred and Gunn reached the surface and crept out of the sewer pipe, blinking in the daylight. They found themselves on the roadside of a mercifully empty street. Though there was still no sign of Mathew. They rounded a corner - just as a boy on a skateboard came past them, jumping the kerb. The pair of them ducked back around the corner and hung their heads low - waiting for him to pass. He didn't spot them - and they hurried on to continue their search.

* * *

Cordelia sat on the floor and watched as the demon got on with its grisly work. There was a body hung up against the wall - well, it was more just a torso now - and the demon was pulling the guts out of it. More importantly - the demon had it's back to her. She glanced across the space - and saw the doorway they had come through was still left open. Cautiously and quietly she began to edge her way to it - moving across the ground, looking back and forth between her escape route - and the demon she was running from. When she was only a few feet away, she scrambled back to her feet and made a mad dash for it.

'You run. I catch you. Snap legs off little furry. No more running,' the demon said to her, without even looking round. She came to a halt and turned back round, 'who are you calling furry? OK OK - I won't run. But my friends will find me - and then you'll wish you had let me go.'

'Little furry mice chatter so much,' the demon muttered. 'Always talk talk. Always scream scream.'

'I guess they scream pretty loud when you string them up and start disemboweling them, huh?' But the demon ignored her - and carried on pulling apart the eviscerated body. She sat back down on the cave floor and hugged her knees - hoping that Doyle would get to her before it got around to disemboweling her. 'So … uh, you from around here?'

The demon turned to look at her - clearly annoyed with her chatter. 'No. from other world. Older world.'

'Nice …' she looked around the cave, her eyes landed on a blue, glowing orb that was just sitting in the corner. 'So - uh - the orb come from your world too?'

'You like it?'

'Sure - it's … shiny.'

The demon laughed, 'go on. Use it,' he said to her, 'use my key. Visit my world.' He laughed again, 'what we breathing there burns out little mouse lungs before you can make a peep.'

There was a beat - whilst Cordy stared between the orb and the demon and then - 'I'll just leave it alone, then,' she said.

'I'll just leave it alone then,' he imitated her, mocking, and then turned back to continue pulling apart the body.

'Right - well, I'll just sit here and watch … whatever it is your doing.' She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes as she watched the rhythmic way the demon worked - and the patterns of the blood spatter and gore on the walls. It was almost ritualistic. 'Is this some kind of magic?' she asked, 'are you doing a spell?'

'Mmm, this blood magic. Flesh magic. Older than words. More much power. This magic she will hear. She will hear and remember her true ones.'

'So no chanting then?' she raised an eyebrow, 'in my experience it's not magic unless there's some muttering of hocus pocus.'

'Words,' the demon clicked in derision. 'She gives no care about words. Word magic.'

'So - no words then?'

'There's only one word she -' it cut itself off and clicked angrily again. But Cordelia had caught it. 'So there is a word?'

'Shh!' the demon hissed at her.

'No way - I wanna hear this. What's the word? What one word does Miss High and Smitey care about?'

'You is talky meat,' the demon snapped at her. 'Don't make me come down there.' He went back to his work and Cordelia shook her head - thinking about what that word might be, and whether it could help them - and how they might find it out. But her thoughts were interrupted when the eviscerated torso suddenly opened its eyes and raised its head - looking at the demon. 'Aah! My god! What is with you man? This is disgusting.'

'Oh my god,' Cordy raised her hand to her mouth once more - biting back the urge to vomit. 'He's still alive!'

'Just drop the serial killer cliché and just stake me already, please!'

The demon was staring up at the talking torso in confusion. 'I tear your guts all inside out. I stitch your guts every all over. Why don't you go dead?'

'Why don't you go f-' but he was cut off and his words turned into screams, as the demon jumped at him and began to rip more pieces away from him. 'Pssh! More talky meat.' It threw the severed piece away from itself - and it landed on the ground beside Cordelia. Horrified, she glanced over at it - and then wretched. It was the victim's tongue - pulled from his mouth and now lying on the floor, oozing.

'Oh god - guy? Demon insect guy? You can't kill him this way. He's a vampire,' Cordelia said to the demon.

'Vampire,' it stopped to think about that. 'Like the one with the angry steel?'

'What?'

'The one that hurt me in the tunnels back there.'

'Oh-' she realised, 'you mean Angel.'

'Eh?' he cocked his head again, not understanding.

'The vampire who attacked you back there - my friend. His name is Angel.'

But her words made the demon click in derision, again. 'You creatures! Throwing your names all over all the time! That's why you're so weak. Too many are knowing your names, takes your power away.'

'Oh - no,' she shook her head, 'that's not the way it works here. Names aren't power. They're just a way of … naming things. Recognising each other, I guess. So we know who we're talking about. They don't do anything else, but they're kind of necessary. That's why Jasmine was so insistent that we give her one before she went on live T.V and … that's completely the word that matters to her isn't it?' she said, realisation hitting her, 'her real name - that's the word she's afraid of. The one that has power.'

The demon looked even more angry. 'Shut!'

But Cordelia only grinned, looking very pleased with herself. 'Oh yeah - I'm right!'

'Shut shut shut shut shut,' it yelled at her diving towards her and pinning her against the wall. 'Shut shut shut shut.'

* * *

A garbage truck rolled off down the street - revealing Mathew standing behind it. He was staring up at the sky, blinking. Fred and Gunn raced over to him. 'Mathew, it's OK, we don't wanna hurt you,' Fred said to the little boy, 'we just wanna talk - but it's not safe up here.'

He didn't look at her - he was still staring upward. 'You didn't tell me the sun came back out.'

'Oh yeah - forgot to tell you. Sun came back out,' Gunn said. He sounded angry - it was because he was afraid. He wanted to get back below ground before they were spotted - but Mathew was in no hurry to move. The boy finally tore his gaze away from the disc of the sun and blinked at the two people chasing him. 'Angel,' he told them, 'he's a vampire - like the ones who…'

'Mathew we can't explain it all up here,' Fred said to him. She glanced around the street frantically, terrified lest one of the people recognise her. Her voice had an edge of panic to it. 'But we're the good guys - I swear. And we need you to come with us.' She reached out to take hold of his shoulder and lead him away. But he twisted from her grasp. 'No! No - I won't go!'

'Sorry, son, but we aren't asking,' Gunn said - grabbing his other shoulder. The boy twisted once again and then started yelling at the top of his voice. 'Help! Help!'

With a wild look in his eye, Gunn swung his fist and punched the kid out. Mathew's cries were cut off as he fell into unconsciousness - and Gunn caught him as he slumped towards the ground. The street fighter's heart was pounding thunderously in his chest - feeling like it was about to explode outward. 'Fred!... Fred!' he called to the woman. She stared at him - her own eyes equally wide and horrified, unable to believe what Gunn had just done. 'What?'

'Grab his feet.'

* * *

Cordelia stared into the face of the angry demon, as it clicked furiously and pinned her down. She didn't know if insect demons from another world had goolies … but it was worth a try. She snapped her leg out and booted it as hard as she could. Her foot connected with fleshy underbelly - and the demon fell back from her. She staggered away to a safer distance - and then looked back at it, breathing heavily. 'Jasmine has a real name - and it has some kind of power over her.' She said, 'what's her name?'

The demon got back to its feet and struck out at Cordelia. It was her turn to go flying. 'What it matters, eh? Eh talky meat?' it demanded, scuttling over to her and getting up in her face once again. 'I don't keep the name. High priest keep the name! And you about to go dead, about to be a smear on my flesh spell.' It grabbed her around the neck and began to choke her. Her eyes went wide. 'I just messenger from the ones who love truly.'

'Well, then…' they both turned to look as another voice cut in - Angel was stood in then opening to the cave, Doyle by his side. 'I guess it's time to shoot the messenger. Or, you know, chop the messenger into little bitty pieces. Whatever.'

The demon dropped its hold of Cordy and launched itself towards the vampire. Angel swung his sword and they began to fight; slashing out at each other with metal and pincers. Meanwhile, Cordy had sunk to the ground - and Doyle had run over to her side. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. 'You're OK?' he asked, kissing her on the lips and forehead and then holding her tightly, again.

'I'm fine,' she told him, 'there's a way we can defeat Jasmine,' she said - as he kissed her again. 'I know how to do it.'

* * *

'And that's why we don't use words like 'ugly-ass' and 'beastie',' Lorne lectured to the unimpressed looking sewer gang. They had gone back to the lair, to wait for the others - and the anagogic demon had taken the opportunity to school them in interspecies relations. 'We can sometimes do more damage than we intend to. It ain't all about sticks and stones, my young friends. That's all. A little life lesson— One to grow on.' He pointed at them, 'knowing … knowing is half the…'

'Man, shut up!' Randall snapped at him. He didn't need some guy who looked wrong telling him how to behave. He'd lived his whole life fighting demons and vamps - he knew what the enemy was.

There was a noise down the tunnel - and they all turned to look - to see Fred and Gunn manhandling an unconscious Mathew towards them. Randall stared at the child and then at Gunn, 'what the hell happened, man?'

'He'll be OK,' Gunn told him setting the boy down on the floor. Fred twisted her hands together, guiltily. 'I'm sorry we had no other …'

'Fred!' Gunn cut her off. There was no need for the others to know what they'd done. Better to let them think Mathew had had some kind of accident up there, that Fred and Gunn had got to him only just in time - they still believed the sun was out and the town was the vamp's playground. They had no reason to assume it was the two of them that had done this. But Randall had heard enough to grow suspicious. 'What's she talking about?' he asked.

'Nothing,' Gunn replied. Giving nothing away, himself. But that wasn't enough for Randall. He knew something was up. 'Gunn, I'm not liking what I'm not hearing. What did you do to my boy?'

Gunn got back to his feet. 'Son, there's a whole new world of bad going on upstairs, and your boy was walking into it blind. Now, we did what we had to, and frankly, I ain't interested in your opinion on the subject!'

Down on the ground, Mathew opened his eyes and began to laugh out loud … though it sounded more like the laughter of a woman than a little boy. Holly frowned and knelt down beside him, 'Matt? Honey?'

Fred stared. She knew that laugh. Had heard it issue forth from many different mouths. 'Oh no,' she gasped.

'I see you!' Jasmine's voice came out from between Mathew's lips in a sing song. He turned to look at the team - his eyes wide, a mad glint to them. 'Holly look what they did to Mathew,' Jasmine said - through the little boy. Holly stared at him in confusion. 'They hit him again and again until he lost all consciousness. He just wanted to see the sun.'

'Lorne, Fred - time to go,' Gunn said to them - edging towards the exit of the alcove.

'Randall, my love,' Jasmine said, 'don't you want to hit them - don't you want to kill them?'

'You know…' Randall looked over at where the three adults were trying to escape. He felt the anger build inside of him - at what they had done: to Mathew, running with vampires … and at the same time he felt the sweep of an indescribable love take hold of him and overtake everything else. 'That just might make my whole damn day.'

'Go!' Gunn yelled - and the three of them ran out into the sewer tunnels , splashing through the waste as they desperately tried to make their escape. But they could hear the sewer gang behind them; catching up. They turned down the next tunnel and fled blindly on, taking one final turn in an attempt to lose the kids … only to run headlong into a bigger, much more dangerous looking mob.

The mob parted - and the Groosalug walked to the front. He smiled at the three of them. 'Hello,' he said - though it was Jasmine's voice he spoke in, 'I believe you've met my champion.'


	80. Sacrifice: Part Four

_Part Four_

Doyle and Cordy were still wrapped up in each other - as Angel and the demon fought each other, tumbling around the cave as they each sought to gain the upper hand. 'You think we should help him?' Cordy asked glancing across at the fighting pair. Doyle shook his head slightly, and kissed her again. 'Angel's got it,' he said.

The demon threw Angel across the cave - at that moment. The vampire crashed to the ground and immediately the insect like creature was on top of him and drove one of its pincers through his chest. Angel cried out. Cordelia winced - and Doyle hissed through his teeth, shaking his head. 'Maybe he's not got it,' he admitted.

'Little mice,' the demon clicked - pushing its pincer further inside Angel, 'always soft on the inside.' With his free hand, Angel reached for his sword and slashed it through the air in a blurry, silver arc - slicing the pincer away from the demon's body. 'Wretched little…' the demon cried out, it yanked the sword out of Angel's hand. 'Time to go dead mouse.'

Doyle ran at the demon, then, morphing into his demon spikes as he went. But as soon as he was in striking distance, the demon turned and backhanded him across the room with its other pincer. Like Angel had done - he flew threw the air and landed heavily on the ground. He groaned. Cordelia helped him back to his feet.

'You wait your turn talky,' the demon clicked at them, twisting its head to glare at the young couple. It didn't notice Angel pick up the dismembered pincer. He raised it high and then plunged it downwards, stabbing the demon in the neck. The demon screamed out in agony and fell thrashing to the floor. 'Little soft yourself in there,' he said, then he glanced over at Doyle and Cordy, 'you guys both OK?'

The demon gasped and twitched - as it felt the life drain from it, the blood run from its wound. 'Devourer,' it breathed, 'this meat … I give … unto thee.' And then its eyes rolled upward and it died.

'What was that about?' Doyle asked - looking down at the now still demon.

'It means Jasmine,' Cordelia said, she looked between the two men, 'this … thing comes from another world. Another dimension. Jasmine was there once, they all worshipped her, too. There's a high priest who keeps her name - her real name. And her real name has some kind of power over her - that's why she keeps it a secret. And he said - oh!' she remembered and ran across the cave, seizing the glowing, blue orb, 'he said this was the key to his world. I guess it opens up like a portal thingy.'

Doyle whistled long and low, 'I think the universe might've just handed us our first break,' he said.

* * *

Fred, Gunn and Lorne splashed on down the tunnels - they could hear the mob gaining on them. They turned a corner and ran down the next tunnel, hoping to lose sight of the Jasmaniacs, hoping to throw them off the scent … hoping against hope they didn't hit a dead end. 'I really hate today,' Lorne panted - as he followed the other two.

'It's tomorrow I'm more worried about,' Gunn replied. He came to a stop and looked around frantically, deciding where to go next. 'Come on!' He led them down the next tunnel.

* * *

Cordy held the sphere and the two demon men huddled around her, examining it. She turned it over and over in her hand. It glowed a bright blue, but that was all that could be said about it. 'There's nothing on it,' she said to them, 'no markings, no fancy Latin words - nothing that slides around like a puzzle box and reveals the toy surprise inside … not that I can find anyway. It's just blue. And shiny.'

'Well it must work somehow,' Doyle said peering at it. 'He called it a key?'

'Yep - but who knows where the lock is - 'cause I sure don't,' Cordelia said to him. Angel was frowning, his brow hanging even lower than usual. 'And if we can get the glowy blue orb to work, we can get to this guy's world? And find the High Priest - who keeps Jasmine's real name?'

'Uhuh - that's what he said. She's super wigged about her name…' she frowned, 'I'm guessing it isn't Peanut… might still be Francis.'

'Hey!'

* * *

Fred felt like her lungs were about to explode. There was a stitch in her side which felt like she was getting stabbed by a red, hot knitting needle. And her legs were beginning to feel rubbery, like jelly - unable to support her. The blood pounded in her ears - but not so loud that she couldn't hear that the mob was catching up with them. There were so many of them - and they were led by Groo. If they were caught then there was every chance they would be ripped limb from limb by the crowd of angry worshippers. And that thought was the only thing that enabled to keep her stumbling onward, forcing one foot in front of the other.

* * *

'So what else do you know about this priest guy?' Angel asked. Cordelia wrinkled her brow as she tried to remember what the insect demon had said to her. 'Not a whole lot,' she admitted after a moment. 'Clicky pincer dude said that they built Jasmine a temple, a big stone thing - if he's a priest he probably lives there. And if he knows this gigantic secret then he's probably pretty powerful. Which means big and nasty. Even bigger and nastier than that guy,' she nodded over at the still and stiffening corpse of the insect demon.

'That wouldn't surprise me,' Angel agreed. 'What about …' he stopped and raised his head slightly, listening carefully. 'Angel, man, what is it?' Doyle asked, but the vampire just shushed him and listened again. 'Something's going down, he said, 'something bad.'

'You think we've been found?' Cordelia asked, 'how could…?'

'One of the kids made a break for the surface,' Doyle told her, 'if he got away…'

'He'd be infected by Jasmine.'

'And she'd know exactly where to look for us. She'd send a mob.' Doyle thought for another moment, 'she'll send the Groosalug,' he said.

* * *

The mob rushed on through the tunnels. Groo suddenly came to a stop and sniffed. There was just a trace - but he caught it. The scent of petrichor - and that strange, unpleasant mead he always drank. He was close by. 'Your Majesty,' the Groosalug smiled to himself.

* * *

Jasmine stood in the centre of her room - gazing out over the city. A broad smile tracked across her face, mirroring the one the Groosalug wore. 'Father,' she said, quietly. Satisfied. Triumphant.

In the corner, Connor still clutched to his knee, Wesley watched - and felt the icy shaft of fear for his friends lodge deep into his heart.

* * *

'Stay here - be ready to shut the door,' Angel left the young couple alone in the demon's lair and ran out into the tunnels, looking for the others. He could smell them - they were afraid. He splashed his way towards the sound of running.

Fred caught sight of him, in the distance. 'Angel!' she yelled at the others, pointing to him.

'Oh God are we dead yet?' Lorne panted.

'Guys!' Angel ran to them, bundled them in front of him and then - with a backward glance towards the mob - pushed them onward, back towards the demon's cave.

* * *

Alone in the lair, Doyle and Cordy were still trying to figure out the orb. 'There's gotta be somethin',' Doyle was saying, his voice was hurried and low. 'Think, Cordy.'

'I am thinking,' she snapped.

'A special word he said or…'

'There were no words,' she replied. 'He was very clear on the no word magic - pretty big with the whole not talking!'

'No magic words?' Doyle looked dumbfounded. He shook his head, 'how do you channel magic without words - incantations and the such?'

'Do I look like a witch? How should I know?'

* * *

'It's the Groosalug,' Fred told Angel, as they tumbled inside the lair. Her breath was heavy and she had trouble getting her words out. 'He's here.'

'I know,' Angel replied. He slammed the door to the lair shut and then pressed his back to it, holding it closed.

'And - uh the national guard I think,' Lorne said.

...

On the other side of the door, Groo led the mob right up to the opening and they began to pound on it. Kicking it and pushing it, fighting to get in.

...

'Oh no!' Fred cried, throwing her own, inconsiderable, weight against the door, along with Angel. Lorne and Gunn joined them - and the four of them held it together, straining with all their might to keep the mob out.

...

Cordy and Doyle were still bickering over the orb. 'OK - no magic words … what about uh … numbers? Or … maybe it's like morse code - you gotta tap it?'

'Not helping, Doyle … he said … he said .. no word magic - there was no power in word magic. Ngggh.' She grunted in frustration. 'No word magic,' she repeated, gritting her teeth and trying to remember everything that creepy insect guy had clicked at her whilst it ripped the guts out of the vampire. Guts... blood. 'That's it!' she remembered at last, 'not word magic, blood magic!'

'Blood magic?' Doyle asked her. She nodded. 'Uhuh - that's what he said. Blood magic.'

Doyle looked up at the scratch on Cordy's forehead - where the insect had scratched at her with its pincers. It was trickling a little blood. Slowly, he reached up with his index finger and wiped the blood away. 'Let's hope this works,' he said - and smeared the sticky redness across the orb.

The orb suddenly vibrated in Cordelia's hand - glowing even brighter and then sending out a bolt of lightning. The lightning tore the air apart - and a portal opened up, crackling and pulsating. 'Angel - we got it!' Cordelia yelled.

Doyle took a deep breath. 'Let's just hope I'm the prophecied king in this dimension, too,' he said - and charged towards the gateway between dimensional walls. But behind him, he heard Cordelia squeal in panic - and then felt her tugging on his arm, yanking him backwards. 'You can't jump through there!' her voice was laced with a wild hysteria. Her eyes were wide and panicky, too.

'I've been through portals before, darlin'...'

'But the atmosphere - he said we couldn't breathe it. It would burn our lungs right up. Only Angel can go.'

'Oh - I better stay here, I suppose.'

Cordelia breathed great ragged breaths, as she processed how close she had come to losing Doyle. 'Angel,' she panted - looking at the vampire still holding the door, 'you need to …'

'I can't,' he shook his head. If he let go of the door there was no way the others would manage to hold it without him. He couldn't leave them behind. But Doyle thought differently. 'Bud, even with you - we can't hold that thing forever. And when they get in - they'll kill us. Someone needs to live through this - someone who knows the truth. And maybe put a stop to it. That's you. You're the only one, man. If you don't go - we all die in vain.'

'But…' he looked around at his panicked and frightened friends. They were grimy and tired from their time in the sewers. They were out of breath. They were outnumbered, out matched. If he jumped through the portal - he'd be leaving them to their fate. This could be the last he ever saw of them. He looked at Doyle, their eyes met. 'I know, bud,' Doyle said, softly, 'but you gotta do it - you're a champion. You gotta make the hard sacrifices.'

Angel glanced round at his friends one last time - and then nodded. He broke away from the door and ran towards the portal. 'Angel, wait!' Cordy threw him the orb, 'so you can get back,' she said. He nodded and then dove through the howling gateway. It closed up behind him - and the team were left to face the mob without their own champion at their side.

...

Cordelia and Doyle joined the others at the door, throwing their own weight against it. Doyle glanced up at Gunn - and they both saw mutual recognition of the impossibility of their task.'This door's not gonna hold,' Doyle said.

'Time for the big fight scene,' Gunn agreed.

...

Outside the mob battered at the door. The Groosalug watched them - and then spoke loud enough for them all to hear, even over the battering of their own fists. 'Move aside,' he said to them. The crowd parted - and he walked up to the door.

...

'Cordy, I need you to get behind me,' Doyle said, pulling her away from the door and positioning her so his body would be between her and the mob.

'What? I can defend myself…'

'Not against all those people you can't, love. Even Angel couldn't.'

'And what? Chicken little's gonna protect me, with his incredibly undersized body and zero biceps?'

He just gave her a look. 'I'm Jasmine's father,' he said to her, 'she won't let 'em kill me. She's always given instructions to capture me. If you stay behind me, maybe they won't kill you either.'

'Oh … that makes sense I suppose.'

He nodded - satisfied she would let him at least try and keep her safe - and turned back to the door. He glanced at Gunn again. 'Count of 3,' Gunn said, '1 - 2 -'

...

The Grooslaug kicked down the door. The team all stumbled backward with the force - and the mob rushed inside. Immediately the air was filled with slashing weapons - as the team of renegades and the mob of true believers engaged in pitched battle, in a very confined space.

* * *

Up in her room - Jasmine stood, her arms held wide. Her skin kept slicing open, gleaming red and then healing again. She received every wound inflicted on her battling followers. She was cut again and again and again; on her arms, her chest, her face. The cut would shine for a moment - glisten like rubies in the light - and then heal over. As she stood there - feeling every wound her warriors felt, taking the pain from them, healing them instantly - she laughed and she laughed and she laughed.

In his corner, Wesley watched her in horror, seeing the injuries appear and heal and only being able to imagine what was being inflicted on the rest of the team. She sounded mad - standing there laughing maniacally. She looked like she was enjoying it - having her flesh ripped apart. Even as her body shuddered with the pain, she would only laugh harder - that mad, gleeful cackle devoid of all reason. He cuddled Connor close and closed his eyes, trying to blot it all out.

* * *

Angel tumbled out of the portal and looked around at the ancient world he had landed in. It was barren and rocky and the air was purple; bathing everything in an eerie, nightmarish tinge. He didn't breathe - but nevertheless he could tell that the atmosphere was scorched and dry. Nothing could grow here. Nothing could live here - except … he heard the clicking before he saw them. Hundreds of insect creatures- just like the demon - were crawling over the desiccated earth towards him, clacking their pincers angrily. Angel looked around at them, swarming as far as the eye could see. 'Oh hell.'

* * *

**A/N Next episode is 'Peace Out' - the penultimate episode of the season. We seem to have got here very quickly...**


	81. Peace Out: Part One

**Peace Out**

_Part One_

The sun shone down on the city - on its peace and its bliss, as always. Everything was right, everything was tranquil - above ground. But deep beneath the streets, Jasmine's peace was threatened - and an ugly battle raged on; between the small band of renegades and her large group of devoted followers.

The fighting was fierce and brutal: a frenetic mess of arms and legs, flailing weapons and people falling, getting crushed under the ebb of the melee. Doyle and Gunn had both ripped off loose pipes from the walls and were swinging them like iron clubs - battering at the heads of the mob. Wherever he was pushed to, the Irishman made sure he always had his left hand firmly clamped round Cordy's wrist - was pulling her along with him - keeping him behind him as much as possible, trying to shield her with his own status as Jasmine's father.

But even by his side, the mob was too large - the chaos too raw - that she could not be defended completely. Jasmaniacs battered in on them from all sides - and Cordy snapped her leg out again and again, kicking the loyal followers in the chest, the face, between their legs - whatever she could reach. She would twist in Doyle's grasp and swing her fist at followers sneaking up on them from behind… but she was tiring, as the attacks just kept on coming.

Lorne was using his hockey stick to smack away Jasmaniacs, he pinned one in the corner. Fred used her elbow and connected with a face. She heard the crack of their cheekbone and felt them go down. But then she heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked. 'Charles!' she yelled out. Gunn twisted and saw her in danger. He barged his way through his own group of attackers, knocking some to the floor - fighting to get through to Fred. But someone on the floor reached out and grabbed his leg, just as another follower smacked him round the back of the head. He crashed to the ground and was unable to fight his way back up again.

The man with the gun swung the butt of it into Fred's face, knocking her to the ground - then pointed the barrel squarely down at her.

Lorne's hockey stick was ripped away from him and swung straight at him - he too crumpled to the floor. Only Doyle and Cordy were left standing now - the whole mob turned on them. Nervously, Doyle backed away - shoving Cordy behind him and swinging out furiously with his pipe. But then he felt Cordelia get ripped from his grasp. She cried out and - like the others - was forced to the ground. He turned - made to go after her and rescue her - but found his way barred by the Groosalug.

'Groo - please…'

But the Groosalug just swung one mighty fist - and the small half demon flew through the air, crashing hard against the opposite wall and slumping to the ground. When he picked himself up, bruised and bleeding, he found the undefeated champion standing right over him - a sword was pointed directly in his face. 'Your Majesty,' the Groosalug said to him, 'where is your vantal?'

* * *

Angel was backed up onto a cliff - in this strange, nightmarish demon world; with its barren landscape, its scorched atmosphere and it's swarming inhabitants. He was right on the edge and there was no where for him to go - but down. He really really didn't want to do that.

As the closest insect demon crawled towards him - it suddenly caught sight of the blue orb in his hand - and shrieked and scuttled back a little. Angel glanced down at the orb - and then raised it high in the air - threateningly. It worked. All the insects clicked their pincers and shrieked - skittering away, back the way they had come. He didn't know why they were afraid of it - but he didn't care, either. He was left alone in this wasteland of a world. But what to do next?

He turned about - scanning the landscape - and saw a bridge which led across the canyon, leading into what might pass as a city. The rocks there were heaped up, like termite mounds - but they were crumbling and falling away. It seemed like the city was long deserted - a ghost town falling into decay and ruin. But, in the middle of the city, was a tabletop mountain - a craggy cliff face with a flat top. And at the top - he squinted - was just visible a building, more substantial and more grand than the buildings of the city, and a light glowed from within. He remembered what Cordelia had said - the demons had built a temple to Jasmine - a big stone thing. This must be it. And that would be where the High Priest was hiding. And the High Priest kept the name he was here to find.

Glancing back over his shoulder, to make sure he was not followed by the creeping insects, he set out across the bridge.

* * *

The gang had been bound and were kneeling on the floor - all except Doyle, who was held roughly by two of the Jasmaniacs. He struggled against them - but they were both bigger than he, and there was nowhere to go even if he got free - the mob was too many for escape to be possible. And he couldn't free the others before he ran. And no way was he running away and leaving Cordelia.

The Groosalug paced behind the kneeling team, he still held the sword in his hand. 'What did you think you could do? Poison the whole city with your hate? Your tricks? It grieves me .. but now I have no choice but to kill you.'

'Groo - please!' Doyle yelled at him, still struggling between his captors.

'You must be quiet, Your Majesty,' Groo snapped at him, pointing the blade at Doyle.

'I'm your King - you gotta do what I say! Let them go. I'll come with you - I'll go back to Jasmine - just don't hurt the rest o' them.'

'You always beg for your consort's safety, your Majesty - it was so in Pylea. A King should not beg. You are no true ruler. She is. Jasmine. She is the truth, she shows us all the way.'

'She's a lie!' Doyle yelled back. 'She does terrible things - she's makin' you do terrible things. Look, you're about to kill defenceless people. That's not you, man.'

The slight crease appeared between Groposalug's eyebrows. But he shook his head - shaking it off. 'She is goodness. She is perfection. You could not see that. Well now you will see your consort die.' He raised his sword right over Cordy's neck.

'No!' Doyle yelled - fighting even harder than ever to get free. Cordelia was knelt on the ground - completely still. Her eyes were wide - and she stared at Doyle, not looking away, wanting him to be the last thing she ever saw. Behind her, she reached out her bound hands and gripped hold of Fred's. Fred gripped back. But other than that - they stayed still. Waiting.

Doyle was fighting furiously, biting and twisting in his captor's hands. His terrified eyes met Cordelia's - and for one, long moment it was like the whole world fell silent and slowed down to just the frantic beating of their hearts pounding in time - and the connection as they looked into each other's eyes: seeing all the loss, and the time they wasted being apart, the grief and the fear and all their shared love. Their final, silent goodbye … and then the Groosalug swung his sword...

'Groo - wait - bring them to me.' Jasmine's voice suddenly burst from the lips of one of the guards. The sword came to a stop - inches from Cordy's bare neck. The Groosalug looked up, confused, 'you wish me to bring these dangerous renegades to you? I do not understand.'

'Do you need to understand to follow my instructions? Do you love me so little?'

'Lady … forgive me.'

'Be a sweet boy and bring them.'

He nodded and lowered his sword.

'Thank you Groo.'

Beside her, Fred felt Cordy sag with relief - and squeezed her hand, hard. Doyle had gone limp - the fight gone from him as the relief of Cordy's reprieve left him almost too weak to stand by himself. The gasping noise of his ragged breathing was the only sound in the room - and it echoed through the space, reverberating against the walls.

* * *

Angel was in pain, his fingers were cramping - but he kept on going. Using nothing but his hands and feet, he scaled the side of the cliff face - struggling to find toeholds - gripping onto any craggy outcrop that looked like it could bear his weight long enough for him to reach out and grab the next one. It was taking hours … but he was already more than halfway up the mountain.

* * *

Jasmine stood in her room surrounded by a crowd of her followers. She had selected dozens of them this time - gone were the days when just one or two would suffice. In the corner, lurking at the edge of the group, stood Wesley - still gripping Connor to himself. He remembered watching her choose people to join her, back when he still loved her. How envious he had been, how much he hoped one day he would be amongst the chosen. Now he wondered what they were all being selected for … the only conclusion he could form was not pleasant - and it did not escape his notice that the crowd she gathered, for whatever purpose, was growing larger every time.

'There's a long road ahead of us and there's still much to do,' Jasmine said to her adoring worshippers. She smiled as she looked at their glowing faces - thrilling with excitement at being so close to her. What they were giving to her, how much she needed them … if only they knew. 'But we've made a wonderful start, thanks to all of you. Your devotion and sacrifice have made a difference. Now if you'll join the others in the banquet room, I'll be with you all shortly.'

'Thank you Jasmine.'

'Thank you,' wreathed in smiles, they all thanked her and herded out - just as the team were roughly manhandled into the room. 'Wesley!' Fred breathed, as she saw him standing there - still unharmed. She immediately bit her lip. Jasmine frowned at her. 'Wesley still belongs to me,' she said 'he is not _your_ concern.' Then she looked the whole sorry crew up and down, taking in their battered appearance, their crumpled and torn clothes, the grime from the sewers - and the general air of dejection which hung over them all. 'So much pain, suffering...must hurt so terribly.'

'Don't get all gloaty,' Gunn glowered at her, 'it's not the worst beating we've ever taken.'

'I meant the pain you've caused yourselves - letting go of me.'

'Oh by giving up absolute tranquility and perfect happiness,' Lorne chuckled, 'no loss. Right guys?' he looked down the lines at the others - but they all hung their heads and didn't answer. 'Guys?'

Only Doyle wasn't dwelling on the pain of his loss - having lost nothing. Instead, he was looking carefully at Wesley and Connor - making sure they were OK, unharmed. Jasmine caught him looking, 'father,' she said, 'you are worried I would harm my faithful followers - but that is because you never took the time to know me.'

'I know you,' Doyle said quietly. She frowned back at him - and then turned to look at Wesley. 'Wesley and Connor still love me - they know what it is to be part of the peace - as one. Why could you not be more like them? All of you…' she caught the way Wesley was looking back at Doyle - their expressions matched, a similar hardness in their eyes - a wakefulness she did not see in the joyful gazes of her followers. And … a concern - for each other. When Doyle, and the friends he had infected, were supposed to be everything Wesley hated. Her frown deepened.

Wesley seemed to realise she was watching him - he broke eye contact with Doyle and immediately made his face blank and adoring. She smiled at him - apparently reassured, for now. She turned back to the others. 'I only wish it were in my power to take you back,' she said to them.

'Nobody asked,' Fred spat at her.

'Where's Angel?' Jasmine asked them. Cordelia raised her head, 'you're meant to be the all seeing know it all - you tell us, lady.'

The Groosalug raised his hand as if to strike her for her impudence. Doyle shoved her behind him and raised his own fist, squaring off against the much bigger champion. 'Hey - hey!'

'Groo - I don't want any violence in my quarters,' Jasmine stopped him. The Groosalug fell back - and Cordelia threw him a dirty glance. 'So … first you didn't want him to chop Cordy's head off - and now you don't want him to hit her,' Doyle said, 'what's goin' on? You sent the mob to kill us - what's with the big change o' heart?'

'Aren't you glad I stayed the Groosalug's blade? Let your precious Cordelia keep her neck? Beyond that - what business is it of yours what I decide is for the best?'

'Well - everyone _keeps_ tellin' me I'm your da. So be a good girl and tell daddy what you're doin' - else you're grounded.'

Jasmine smiled - and a little laughter escaped her lips. 'You _are_ fierce, father - though perhaps not wise. Your willingness to stand up to those bigger and stronger than you is only going to get you crushed one day ... like a bug.'

'A bug…' Cordelia whispered to herself, repeating the words. Her brow was wrinkled and her eyes darted back and forth as she felt her mind whirr around until she found what she was looking for. 'That's it! The bug - the insect demon thing in the sewer. You saw its body - through the eyes of your creepy follower dudes. You recognised it! And now you're power freaked about what it said to us - about what we know. So you brought us back instead of killing us.'

'Such a clever little girl you chose for yourself, father,' Jasmine said - her voice was hard - unimpressed at being found out.

'Actually _I_ chose _him_,' Cordelia corrected, narrowing her eyes. 'I had other offers… so - that insect said his kind loved you first. You went to his world before you came here. Why?'

'A few millennia ago, his world was not unlike yours. Full of hatred and fear, wars scarring its landscape.'

'Until - lemme guess… you made it a paradise on earth,' Gunn said.

Jasmine bit back a smile. 'Well, as much of a paradise as one could with a bunch of insects to work with. I helped them along. Kicked their evolution up a few ticks.'

'And how'd that work out for them?' Lorne asked - the sarcasm in his voice intimating that he already knew the answer full well - and it was not good.

'It was a trial run,' Jasmine said quickly. Her voice harsh as she was forced to think about her failures … how that world had grown too small for her and, once she left it, all the promises had crumbled to ash - leaving the demon race worse than before. It was not for mortals to question her actions. What she could offer them was better than anything their own miserable world had going on - and all she asked in return was their love. If their world was too small and their love not enough - that was not her fault… But it would be different this time anyway. This was a better world. 'just a trial run, an early experiment to work out the bugs, so to speak. I won't make that mistake again.' She changed the subject. 'I know where Angel is, and I know what he's looking for. He's wasting his time,' she kept her voice hard and forceful. If she just said it with enough conviction then maybe it would be so - or at least they would despair enough that she could make it so.

'If you really believed that - you'd have killed us already,' Fred said to her. 'We're bargaining chips. You're keeping us alive in the hope you can keep Angel quiet. It won't work. We're champions - you see, and so is Angel. We know that sometimes there has to be sacrifice.'

'But for now - I choose to keep my heroic little lambs close by,' Jasmine replied. 'Patience!' A middle aged woman walked into the room, glowing with pride and happiness that she was of use to the divine one. 'Yes ma'am?'

'The news people have started to arrive. Please ask them to set up in the lobby. I'll be ready to speak with them after I've eaten.'

Patience nodded and left. The team were looking confused - something was happening but they didn't know what. Wesley stepped forward from his corner - and tilted his head, forcing his expression into a loving gaze. 'Jasmine - is it really time?' he asked - his voice soft and breathless.

'Time for what?' Gunn's voice was sullen as he looked between them. Wesley didn't look back at him, as he replied. He carried on staring at Jasmine - and kept his voice full of love and wonder. 'Jasmine has decided it is time to share her love with the whole world. She's going to beam her message far and wide to every corner of the globe. Everyone, the world over, will get a chance to love and worship Jasmine.'

Jasmine turned her head to smile at him - but she saw, from the corner of her eye, the tremor that passed along the team - the way they glanced at each other - the muttering, as they absorbed the information Wesley had given them. Handed them - on a platter. She stopped smiling.

'Jasmine is so wise,' Wesley said, his voice still worshipful, 'to conquer a world that has satellites to beam her message far and wide. It must have been much harder on that primitive demon planet.'

'You're not wrong,' Jasmine said to him - though her tone was grim. 'Groosalug - gentlemen, please escort our guests to their quarters. Groo I wish you to stand guard over them - see that they do not escape.' Her followers began to bundle the team out of the room, 'leave my father,' she instructed '… but take Wesley and Connor.'

Wesley was grabbed by the elbow and hustled away with the others.

'It never hurts to have more bargaining chips,' she said, coldly, almost to herself - watching him and the baby be pulled away. 'Especially supposedly loyal ones that are so profligate with information.'

Meanwhile - Cordelia was battling with the two men leading her out, trying to get back to Doyle. Likewise, Doyle was trying to fight off his own guards - elbowing one in the face and making a run towards his disappearing girlfriend.

'No - get off me - No!' Cordelia squealed - fighting tooth and nail to get free. 'You can't separate us - I won't leave him … Doyle!' But she was dragged off - and Doyle, as he ran past, was grabbed by Jasmine - hauled back - and then smacked hard with the back of her hand. For the second time that day, he flew through the air and smashed into the wall. By the time he looked up - Cordy was gone and her cries of protest had grown faint. He looked up at Jasmine … she had staggered backwards, was unsteady on her feet since she had hit him - and her nose was bleeding. He reached up and touched his upper lip, feeling the exact same warm sticky flow coming from his own nose. He stared at her - trying to figure it out. Jasmine, too, touched her face and looked at the fresh blood. 'You hurt me,' she said. Her voice trembled - and Doyle wasn't sure if it was with fear or fury. 'You have always hurt me, father. Well, now I am going to put you someplace you can never hurt me again.'

* * *

Angel, having finally inched his way to the top, staggered into the temple. The space inside was wide and large, and - on a raised dais - stood a massive statue. Burning torches were placed around it - their flames flickering in the gloom, filling the air with their acrid smoke. Angel peered in the statue's face. Although the shape of the body was insectoid - its pincers placed together as if in prayer - the features were still recognisable. This was the form Jasmine had taken when she had come to this world aeons ago. This was how the demonkind had loved her.

A voice suddenly floated out of the dark. 'A long way to come, dead thing, only to fail. Don't worry. The way down will be much, much quicker.'

'Thanks for the tip. Maybe I can use your body to cushion the blow.'

'I doubt if my form would provide you much protection, but you're welcome to try.' A creature walked out from the shadows. Its shape was more or less human - much more so than the demon from the sewer - but it still had traces of the insect in it. Its skin was a yellowish-green and it had little spikes covering its hairless head. It was small and frail and bony. It was right - it would do little to cushion a fall.

Angel stared at him, 'you - you're the…'

'High Priest, Guardian of the Word, caretaker of her most blessed temple.'

Angel looked around, scornfully. The blessed temple was a little on the empty side. Where were all the other true believers?

The High Priest chuckled darkly. 'Betrayers, blasphemers. Centuries of waiting for her return have caused most to doubt.'

'She's not coming back,' Angel told him. He'd seen this world - all it had to offer. And he knew Jasmine. She was not returning to this burned out, desiccated nothing to be worshipped by a few hundred bugs. Not when she had earth … though there was fear growing in his heart as to what his home would look like once she tired of it, fear of what _this_ planet might once have been before she came and destroyed it with her love.

But the High Priest did not agree. He still believed. She would return to his world once she was through with the vampire's. She would see who had waited loyally. Who had remained faithful. And she would reward them.

'Right, OK,' Angel shrugged, 'hey - maybe we're not talking about the same person? What was the name of your's again?'

But the priest only laughed - he wasn't going to be tricked by so simple a ruse. 'That's why you're here, dead thing. What you've come for. The word. The name.'

'Good, you got that,' Angel nodded. 'So I don't have to ask again,' he seized the High Priest round the throat and lifted him in the air. 'What is it?'

'Fool,' the priest choked out, 'you can take away her power, but you will have lost … everything.'

* * *

'Try not to worry, honey,' Lorne said, placing his hand on Cordelia's shoulder. They were all of them locked in the cage in the basement, apart from Doyle. They didn't know where he was - and Cordy was glumly staring at the wall, fretting. 'MaggotyMary has always been very clear with the not hurting or killing your little studmuffin,' the demon sought to assure her. 'Wherever he is - I know he's unharmed, and worrying just as desperately about you.'

'Groo-' Fred got to her feet and walked to the bars, looking out at the undefeated champion who sat by the stairs, guarding them. 'Groo - you have to listen to us. You're the only one who can help us, now - what Jasmine promises - it's a lie. It's all lies.'

'It is you who lies,' Groo told her. 'You betray her. Reject her love. You are not worthy of her - but I will not make the same mistake.'

'Connor hasn't rejected Jasmine's love,' Wesley joined Fred at the bars, he held up the happy baby - showing the blissful contentment the little boy still enjoyed. 'And yet she has locked him up. Why would she lock up an innocent child - if she is good? How can that be right? What danger is he to her? You love Connor, don't you? Are you really happy to see him held to ransom?'

The crease appeared between Groo's eyebrows once again. 'It is not my place to question - to think,' he said, forcefully. 'When a champion starts to think he second guesses himself - and that's when he loses.'

'You know,' it was Gunn who joined them at the bars this time, 'that don't sound a whole like you talking there, Groo - did she tell you that?'

'She was right to - I questioned her. I should not have.'

'You asked questions?' Lorne sounded surprised, 'you - the Groosalug, undefeated champion, unthinking warrior of Silas and the Trombli? _You_ asked a question? What on earth made you do that?'

The Groosalug looked uncomfortable. 'She removed the Lady Kalimania from her room. I asked where she had put her.'

'And where had she put her?' Fred asked quietly.

'She put her somewhere safe.'

'She didn't tell you,' Wesley surmised. 'You no longer know Kali's whereabouts. Tell me, Groo - what else do you think Jasmine might be hiding from you?'

'Nothing. I am sure of it. She shows me the truth. Always. Why else would she tell me …' he cut himself off and looked away.

'What?' Wesley asked him, keenly, 'what _has_ she told you, Groo?' He narrowed his eyes, as he thought about what the Groosalug might know. 'Has she told you what she does with those groups of people?' he guessed, 'the ones that meet with her and then are never seen again? What happened to the Bailey twins? And all the rest? Those people sent to the banqueting hall - what is she planning?'

Cordelia looked up from her reverie of misery then, catching on to Wesley's thinking. 'The demon insect - the one who worshipped her first - he called her 'the devourer'. What is she devouring, Groo?'

Groo had got to his feet - and was looking more and more distressed. 'These questions - you should not ask questions. Not of her. She is good - she is the truth - she is the …'

'She's eating them, isn't she?' Wesley said softly.

'They're the banquet?' Lorne sounded horrified.

'She eats people?' Gunn sounded just as disgusted. He shook his head. ''To serve Man' - it's 'To Serve Man' all over again.'

'Oh no,' Fred breathed. Cordelia scrambled up and joined the others at the bars. 'Is she going to eat Doyle?' She demanded. 'Has she eaten Kali already?'

Groo stared at them - unable to answer. 'There's really no way of knowing that, is there, Groo?' Wesley asked him, softly.

* * *

'I know all about you, dead thing,' the priest choked out, still dangling mid air, with Angel's fist around his throat. 'She who brought us up out of the mud and moulded us into what we are has given me sight into the hearts and minds of others. I see you. I know all abou…' Angel squeezed harder - and the priest screamed.

'Good,' the vampire said, 'then you know I'm in kind of a hurry.' He pressed even harder, he could feel the Priest's windpipe squishing beneath his hand.

'Ke...e.. pah' the priest croaked. Angel dropped him and looked confused. 'That's it? Caper?' He had to admit, that wouldn't have been his first guess. Although it wasn't that far from 'peanut'.

'Keeper,' the priest repeated - now his throat was free. 'The true name is known only by the Keeper of the Name.'

'Right,' Angel grabbed him again, 'that's you.'

'I am the Guardian of the Word!'

'_The word is the name!' _

'Yes and I guard the keeper of it.'

Angel was done with the riddles. He didn't have time. He wanted answers - or he was going to make this guy go pretty seriously dead. 'So you're the keeper's keeper?'

'I am the Guardian of the Word,' the priest said indignantly.

'Yeah - OK - so where's this Keeper of the Name?'

From clutched within Angel's fist, the priest nodded his head over in the direction of the other end of the temple. There was a creature kneeling there - as if in prayer. It had its back turned to them. 'Swell,' Angel said, dropping the priest and striding over to the Keeper. 'The Keeper will not be forthcoming,' the priest called after him, 'only with its last breath will it divulge the true name of the blessed devourer.'

But Angel ignored him - and stood behind the kneeling creature, looking down at him. 'OK big guy, you got a name I need. So we can either do this the easy way or the hard way.' The creature got to its feet. 'But you're gonna give me her name…' the creature turned to him. It was massive, much bigger than the priest - and more powerful looking. Its lips were sewn together with great jagged stitches, blackened with age. It wasn't talking anytime soon, but it still managed to growl through its sealed lips, deep and menacing. 'Right,' Angel said, 'The hard way.'


	82. Peace Out: Part Two

_Part Two_

Groo opened the doors to the banqueting hall and made his way through. The whole place was teeming with delighted, excited people - stripping away their clothes without a moment's hesitation or embarrassment. He scanned the room ignoring the undressing followers until he found what he was looking for: Jasmine was stood in the centre of the room, talking with a young, naked woman.

'I'm so glad you're here,' Jasmine was saying to her. The woman smiled up, adoringly. 'Thank you,' she said, her voice trilling with happiness. 'Thank you so much. Before you came, my life was a mess. I had no job. I was being evicted...'

'It's all right, Susan, you'll never be burdened with those worries again.' Then she noticed the Grooslug making his way towards her. 'Excuse me a moment,' she said to Susan - and walked towards him. 'Groo, is everything alright?' she whispered - looking worried.

'I wished to speak with you my lady,' he said, bowing his head to her. Now he was with her he felt foolish. She was the light, the peace and the joy. He had let the betrayers get inside his head, down in that dark basement - started questioning. But now he was with her - he was not supposed to question, not supposed to think - she had told him as much. Of course she was good - and the renegades were false. Of course this golden goddess could do no harm.

'Can we do this later?' she asked, 'I hate to keep all these lovely people waiting.' She scanned the room - looking at her stripping devotées. There was a hungry light in her eye as she gazed upon them, sizing them up. And the Groosalug saw it. He felt that peace and joy falter - and the questions rise to the surface. 'It is Kalimania, your mother,' he said. 'I truly wish to know where you…'

'I told you,' Jasmine interrupted him. 'She's exactly where I need her to be. Out of harm's way.'

'But if I only knew…'

'There's no need for you to know,' she smiled at him, sweetly. 'Just take comfort in my words. She is safe and …' she saw his expression, saw the light of worry in his eyes. 'You think I ate her,' she said.

'I feared … you request that so many of your followers sacrifice themselves completely unto you. I thought …'

'I told you not to think,' she said, quickly. 'See what ridiculous notions you come up with when you try to think for yourself?' His face twitched - and she narrowed her eyes, 'or perhaps you did not think of that all by yourself? Perhaps they managed to poison your mind against me?'

'No - I just … I love the Lady Kalimania. I miss her. I would like to be by her side, again. I would like to see that no harm has come to her.'

'No harm has come to her,' Jasmine assured him. 'I love her, too. She is my mother. My tether to this world. I could no more hurt her than my renegade, worthless father. I simply had a few of my faithful remove her to a secure location for her protection.'

'Who moved her?'

'It doesn't matter. Just know she is alive and ... well, comatose. And under constant guard. Much as our guests downstairs are meant to be.' She gave him a meaningful look - and he nodded, 'forgive me,' and turned to leave. 'Thank you, Groo,' she called after him, 'shut the door on your way out.'

* * *

Doyle had been dragged through the Hyperion and bundled into the back of a car. It drove away from the hotel and then down Santa Monica Boulevard. Lying bound on the backseat - peering out of the windows form his prone position, only able to see the sky and the very tops of the buildings from this angle - Doyle could not even tell which direction they were travelling in, never mind whereabouts they were. He shifted slightly so he could keep an eye on the clock on the dashboard. He might at least be able to figure out the radius he was in, if he timed how long it took them to get where they were going.

The car turned off the main road and drove a couple of blocks - before pulling up and coming to a stop. From his vantage point, horizontal in the back, Doyle could only gain a brief impression - hints of a neo gothic church - with twisting columns round the door, a window shaped almost like a flower - and a domed bell tower near the back.

He was dragged from the car and up the steps towards the church door. On the way past he caught a fleeting glance of a sign reading 'God is nowhere. Jasmine is the way.' He remembered what he had heard on the radio - how the Catholic Church had promised to take down all their false idols … so it was true.

His captors shoved him through the door and he stumbled as he crossed the threshold, but he was roughly grabbed, again, and forced inside. The place had been boarded up - the inner doors of the sanctuary were closed and locked. Two men stood guard outside it - cops. But when they saw the newcomers, they unlocked the heavy door and Doyle was pushed inside the nave. His captors did not follow him inside. Instead, they stopped at the door and spoke to the two cops guarding the door. 'Make sure he doesn't leave,' one of his old guards said, 'Jasmine requests that the holy father stay with the holy mother - until she has further need of them.'

'Praise Jasmine,' one of the cops said.

'She's the best.' And the guys who had delivered him here left - and the cops turned to shut the door. 'Listen,' Doyle called to them, 'fellas - there's really no need to keep me…' But the door was slammed shut - and he was left alone. Or so he thought. He turned and looked around the place that was now his prison - at the pews and the high vaulted ceilings. Down at the other end of the church was the altar, and something was laid out upon it. That was when he realised he wasn't alone. Kali was there.

He swallowed - nervously - and walked up the aisle, climbing the little steps up to the altar and standing by her side. 'Hey, love,' he said softly. She didn't answer - of course she didn't, she was comatose. She was laid out - like the effigy of a saint, or a medieval queen, on top of a tomb. Her face had a look of complete serenity, it its repose. She was draped with a translucent swathe of gossamer, covering her - head to foot - like a veil. She was a stone cold icon to be worshipped… and yet no one was allowed near her.

'So this is where she put you?' he said. 'She's locked me up here too - her parents.' He snorted in disgust. 'You know - that's the sickest part of all this? The way she insists on callin' us her parents - when she's a bazillion years old and god knows what species. Us - the two people she violated the worst. She got inside o' us - used us up - threw us away … and then says she loves us - and we should love her. She's a monster.'

Kali remained silent - oblivious to his presence. He wondered if she was dreaming, where she was - if she was peaceful. And he wondered if she could hear him. He hoped she could. 'I wanted to say sorry to y',' he said, taking a deep breath. 'For doin' this to y'.' He gestured to her comatose body. 'I mean - I know it wasn't me - wasn't my fault … but the infection was inside o' me - and I passed it on. To you. And you've paid a much higher price than me. And that's not fair. I want you to know, I am sorry. And…' he took another breath. 'I'm sorry about … y'know … the sex.' He whispered the last two words. 'I guess you thought you were sleepin' with me - that it meant somethin'. But I wasn't there. It wasn't me - it was her, and she was just transferring herself to a body she could be born in. I guess you would never have agreed to it, if you'd know all that - huh? I wouldn't have agreed to do it, either - if I'd known she was there, if I had any idea what would happen, if I'd had control o' my own body. I would never have used y' that way. But she used us both. Tricked us both - and I'm sorry that I hurt you. That she made me hurt you. I never meant to.'

He tore his eyes away from Kali's peaceful face and looked around the church they were now locked in. Light streamed in through the tall windows, narrow shafts of light beaming down and illuminating random parts of the nave, leaving other parts in darkness. Doyle could see the dust motes dancing inside the rays of light - and felt the utter stillness of this place. It was a place that felt like it was dead, stale - more of a tomb than a place of worship. 'And now she's locked us both in here,' he said. 'Her parents - shoved outta the way - like she's stuck us in an old folks home. Left to rot.' He frowned. 'Why? If she wants us out of the way, if we're such a danger to her …' he turned back to Kali and addressed the next question directly to her, 'why not just kill us and be done?'

* * *

Angel swung his fist, landed a blow and then ducked the responding one. He danced to the side on the balls of his feet and hit out again. 'What is it that you think you fight for, dead thing?' The Higher Priest asked - standing to the side and watching the fight. 'Valour? What you call justice? Your friends are dead... most likely. Or so you believe, so it's not for them you fight.' His face was impassive, disinterested even - acting like he had little interest in the outcome of the battle going on in front of him. But Angel knew that wasn't the case - the priest was trying to throw him off his game. That's why it kept talking. It wanted to distract Angel, make him give in, make him give up - or just divide his attention so that the Keeper of the Name could crush him. It wasn't going to work.

He grabbed the Keeper's arm, twisted it and then threw the demon away from himself. 'I'm trying to save my world,' he said to the priest - as the Keeper got back to its feet and lumbered back towards him.

'Your world? A world that doesn't care for you? Doesn't want you,' taunted the priest. The Keeper grabbed hold of Angel's torso, hoping to pull him to the ground, but Angel used the demon's own momentum to hurl him away from himself, again. 'It needs me,' he told the priest.

'So your Powers That Be tell you, and maybe they're right, but it won't matter in the end.'

Angel grabbed hold of the Keeper and threw it right across the temple. It smashed to the ground and did not get back up right away again. Angel had bought himself a little breather - so to speak. 'OK Bugsy,' he let his irritation be heard in his voice, 'you wanna tell me why saving my planet from becoming enslaved to a power crazed Power That Was who removes free will won't matter in the end?'

'Because nothing matters,' the priest said. 'Nothing ever matters - no matter what you do. It's never enough. You lost your woman - to the promised one, the holy father. There was nothing you could ever do that would be enough to make a difference there. And the boy … he still loves the devourer. You want him back but - he's known perfect love, now - he isn't yours anymore. You couldn't save your friends, you can't help the hopeless. You can't stop all the forces and powers that align against your world and rain down misery upon it, dead thing. You can't save them. You can't achieve anything. Nothing you do will ever matter - the deck is stacked too high against you.'

'If nothing we do matters,' Angel said, folding his arms across his chest and staring down at the frail priest, 'then all that matters is what we do.'

Across the floor, the Keeper opened his eyes again. It got to his feet and dove at Angel from behind, catching him off guard.

* * *

Jasmine had told him to go back and guard the renegades in the cage but - even though he mustn't, even though he must surely burn in Tarknah for a thousand centuries for this betrayal - the Groosalug chose not to follow her instructions, and headed towards the back doors, rather than back down to the basement.

The lobby, as he passed through it, was absolutely swarming with people. The crowds of adoring worshippers were, as always, in attendance and breathlessly waiting for Jasmine's next appearance. But there were also the people setting up for the press conference. Groo had little understanding of what they were doing - or how it would work, he had no idea what any of the equipment meant - or why there were so many cables snaking through the foyer … but he recognised some of the people. He had seen them before - in the little magic box that the team sometimes watched in order to find out information. Groo liked that little magic box - but he had no idea the people that dwelt within it could also come out into the real world. Sadly, he did not have time to ask them how they had managed to find their way beyond the confines of the screen. Some form of magic he supposed.

'How's the satellite feed coming?' he heard one of the men in sharp suits asking.

'Uh, Moscow's on-line in 20. Paris and Nairobi little longer.'

'I almost envy them - first time you see Jasmine, there's nothing quite like it.'

'Yeah.'

He moved past the conversation between the news producer and the technician, and carried on making his way through the crowds. A blonde woman jumped in front of him and held something up to his face. 'Hi. Tracy Bellows, KTLA. Could I get you to say a few words? This is such a special day - and as the champion of Jasmine, her right hand man, you must be very excited to see her go global.'

Groo knew this woman. He and Kali had watched her on the magic box whilst they were caring for the vantal's child, back when Jasmine was still within the holy mother. He needed to find her … 'I am sorry little witch woman,' he said to Tracy Bellows, gently shoving her out of his way, 'I have no time for your magicks, right now.' He walked off - and Tracy frowned after him, before remembering herself and smiling back at the camera, 'OK, back to you, Hal.'

He walked through the back doors and out into the little courtyard garden. Two men were outside, cutting sprigs from the Jasmine bushes, talking to each other. 'The guy in there says the Lakers just disbanded. Evidently, the players needed more time to devote to her,' one of them was saying - then he noticed Groo stood behind them. He looked him up and down, taking in his long hair and animal skin clothes. 'Hi Mr…'

'Jasmine's champion - protector of the holy mother,' the other one said, recognising him.

'I am the Groosalug,' Groo nodded his head in greeting, 'the brave and undefeated. And I believe you two are the good men who moved my Lady Kalimania from the hotel and took her to her new location.'

The two men glanced at each other uneasily. 'You must have got your wires crossed, there, man.'

'I do not have wires - I am an organic being, not one of the 'machines' your world has so many of. And I need to find my Lady Kalimania.'

'We didn't do anything with the transcendent mother,' one of the men said. Groo's brow furrowed in consternation. 'This is a lie,' he told them, 'you are lying to me. Why?'

The two men glanced at each other again. 'You'll have to ask Jasmine.'

Groo's fist shot out and wrapped around one of the men's throats. He slammed him against the wall. 'I am asking you,' he said, quietly. He pushed the second man away and knocked him to the ground and then looked back at the man in his grasp. 'I am the Groosalug - the brave and undefeated,' he repeated, as the man choked and gurgled under his grip. 'I can track a lurg beast through the slime pits of Ur when its scent is more than three days old. You know how overpowering the stench of the slime pits of Ur can be - how even the fresh scent of a drokken in heat can get lost among the fetid odours… and yet I, the Groosalug, can track and slay any monster that has travelled that way no matter how cold their trail has become. So believe me when I tell you I can smell my Lady Kalimania on the pair of you. I shall ask you again, friend, and if you do not tell me I shall crush your windpipe with my bare hand: where is my Lady Kalimania?'

* * *

Doyle still stood beside Kali - looking down at her face - hoping to find some answer to it all in the serenity of her expression. 'I mean … and no offence darlin' … but you're pretty much a vegetable right about now. And I'm not sure you're ever wakin' up. If we were in the hospital, they'd be askin' about switchin' off your life support. So - what good are you to her like this? Isn't it kinder to just - let you go?'

He turned away and began to pace, her ran his fingers through his hair as he thought - making it stand on end, all fluffy. 'And I'm definitely dangerous to her,' he said. 'I've been tellin' people she's got a face full o' maggots since I first saw her and I haven't shut up about it since. Plus my blood has the power to break her spell.' He came to a stop, rubbed his face and twisted, to glance back at the comatose woman, 'I'm guessin' the same is true of you, love. And I'm guessin' that's why she hid us both. Where no one can find us - where no one can use our blood against her… but we'd still be a lot safer for her if we were dead,' he said.

He began to pace again. 'it's not love,' he said, 'I know it's not that. She isn't keepin' us around out of some sentimental attachment. She loves nothin' but her own power - and everythin' else is a lie. So there's gotta be some other reason…'

He changed direction - and started pacing horizontally across the end of Kali's bier instead of by her side. 'So - what does she need us for? She's a hundred million years old, been around since the earth was slime, can brainwash everyone into lovin' her - no questions asked - even from a distance, now. She's got stronger in the time she's been here. And - speakin' o' strong - she's got a hell o' a left hook on her. She sent me flyin' across the room, I thought my nose was broken…' he trailed off and rubbed his nose, thoughtfully - remembering the trail of fresh blood that had streamed from Jasmine's nose as he bled … or where her nose would be if the maggots hadn't eaten it.

'When she hurt me…' he said slowly, turning back to Kali, 'it hurt her - as well. Mark for mark. If she hits me - she falls. If she makes me bleed - she bleeds too - so if she killed me… or you?' He stepped back to her side in excitement, 'that's it!' he cried, his eyes shining with the realisation. 'She can't hurt us herself - not without suffering the same wounds. She can't kill us - because we tether her body to this plane of existence... but if she can't hurt us, if we physically matter that much?' He thought some more, 'can we hurt her?' he wondered. 'You and me, love, are we the only ones who can stop her? Are we the only people who can harm her human form - 'cause she's a part of us? That would explain why she needs to stick us away in here, under armed guard - 'cause we can bring it all to an end.' He looked down at her comatose face, 'well,' he said, sadly, 'until you wake up, darlin', I'm guessin' I'm on my own. It's down to me.' He glanced around again … 'I need to get outta here.'

* * *

Angel was locked by the throat, in the grip of the Keeper, and dangling in midair. 'So much effort -' the priest said, standing beside them, watching the fight. 'Always struggling. But for no purpose. There is no redemption, no reward, for a dead thing like you. Just disappointment and heartache, guilt and loss.'

Angel struggled in the keeper's grip, 'gives me an excuse to wear nothing but black,' he replied. He brought his arm up and chopped it down on the Keeper's wrist. The Keeper dropped him and he threw a punch the second his feet touched the ground.

'There is nothing for you to look forward to - an eternity whilst those around you move on, leave you behind, leave you alone…'

'I could do with some alone time. I need to hone my brooding skills - I think I'm losing my edge playing the patriarch in a happy family of detectives. Gimme the quiet... do some sketches… maybe stalk a blonde or two … the centuries'll fly by.'

'You can never atone for what you've done, dead thing.'

'Doesn't matter,' Angel said. 'I'm still not gonna stop trying.' The Keeper grabbed one of the flaming torches and swung it at the vampire like a baseball bat. Angel ducked - and the flaming torch hit the frail High Priest straight in the face, slamming him into the walls.

'Oh. oh. That'll work,' Angel said - but then he felt the Keeper pick him up from behind and lift him high over its head...

* * *

The team were slumped in the cage: hot, sweaty and miserable. Cordelia was huddled in the corner. She had taken Connor and was now sat cuddling him, hoping to find some comfort in his weight and warmth. Lorne and Wesley were leaning against the wall. Fred was pacing nervously. Gunn - however - was stood near the door to the cage kicking at the lock over and over.

'It's starting to look not so good for us,' Fred said - as she paced up and down, 'not that I'm giving up or anything.'

'Angel lost - Doyle lost - and us just waiting down here to be soup and sandwiches for Jasmanible the cannibal,' Cordelia sighed. 'It's looked better.' She leaned her head against the bars and shut her eyes. 'This must be what being a battery chicken feels like.'

Gunn kicked the lock again. Lorne threw him an irritated glance. 'You can stop that anytime now.'

'I will,' he kicked the door, 'just as soon as someone comes up with a better idea,' he kicked the door, 'to get us out of here.'

'And then what, Kato? The anti-Jasmine crowd's about to become a staggering minority on this planet.'

'Yeah well, first things,' he kicked the door, 'first. We'll worry about that when the time comes.'

'Bell's rung, babe. Time's come.'

'Guys!' Cordelia looked up at them in annoyance, 'can we not? Is everything not terrible enough without you two bitching it out? Do we not have enough people against us right now without turning on each other?'

'Talking of people who are against us,' Fred said - still pacing up and down, 'isn't it weird how the Groosalug just walked out on us like that? Leaving us unguarded?'

'Yeah. If he's not careful, we might move about freely in our impervious 10 by 9 steel cage,' Lorne said sarcastically.

'Maybe we were getting to him?' Gunn suggested, still kicking the cage. Cordelia frowned. 'If he's brainwashed by the tender love of Rotting Rita, what could we say that could get to him?' She looked across at Lorne, 'you know him best.'

Lorne looked surprised, 'I do?'

'Of us, here? Sure. You're from the same dimension - did we upset him?'

But the green demon only shrugged, he thought it was far more likely that he had simply been called away by her godliness for some mind meldy one on one time. Jasmine had needed him - he had gone - simple as that.

'No,' Wesley frowned. 'Jasmine is currently in the banqueting hall…' he paused slightly as they all considered what she was doing there - though he neglected to spell it out before he moved on. 'She didn't want to be disturbed and above all else she wanted us watched closely.'

Gunn kicked the door again - and Wesley nodded at him, 'to prevent any form of escape attempt. Somehow - the Groosalug accessed his own free will and chose to leave us. Chose to disobey Jasmine.'

'He's broken his programming?' Cordelia wrinkled her nose, 'by himself? Out of everyone - the Groosalug …'

'He's not the deepest of thinkers,' Lorne said, 'doesn't have much room for the philosophical questions in that big, meaty, heroic head of his. The competing ideas of loving Jasmine - and that she might have eaten Kali - probably gave him a migraine.'

'Or a moment of clarity,' Wesley said slowly - something like hope dawning his eyes. He pushed himself away from the wall and looked about at the rest of them. 'Don't you see?' they all stared back at him. He shook his head and thought how best to explain. 'Groo is a black and white thinker: right and wrong, good and evil. He isn't capable of any nuance or complexity. There are no shades of grey for the Groosalug - even if that grey is coming from someone he loves.'

It was Wesley's turn to pace now, he pinched the bridge of his nose and thought harder. 'In many respects - a man like Groo is one of the easiest sorts to manipulate. Having no cunning and guile of his own, being decent and honourable, he expects the same from everyone else - particularly those he believes to be good. The Covenant of Trombli kept him as their creature for years because they told him what was right, let him kill the monsters and never asked him to hurt the innocent - they had the guards for that. Kali was able to convince him that he should protect her from us because he loved her. She told him she was good and we were evil - it was simple enough so he believed it.'

'So how does this lead to him seeing the light?' Cordelia asked.

'Because Jasmine's lie is too big! She's eating defenceless people - and he knows that's wrong. He is sworn to protect the defenceless … once a lie is so big even Groo can see it he becomes the hardest person in the world to manipulate.'

'How's that again?' Lorne said, looking confused.

'Look,' Wesley looked around at them all, 'Groo can't keep two competing ideas in his head. He's supposed to defend the defenceless. He's supposed to defend Jasmine as she eats defenceless people. He can't balance them both. His mind can't think round the corners - can't do the mental gymnastics that it requires to accept that Jasmine eating people is OK. He can't do the shade of grey. All the rest of us - we'd find a way to explain it away, forgive it, tell ourselves it was a good thing - that those people were happy to be sacrificed. We would tell ourselves whatever lie it took to keep on loving Jasmine. _But the Groosalug can't do that. _He can't love Jasmine and Kali _and_ accept that Jasmine might have hurt her - because he hasn't the capacity or imagination to create himself an explanation as to why that's OK. His mind has been thrown out of the bliss by the shade of grey that everyone else would waive away. His has reverted to his sense of right and wrong - _and he knows eating people is wrong_!'

'So - is the spell broken? Is Groo like us now?' Fred asked. But Wesley shook his head. 'He can't see her as we see her, he doesn't see the truth. But he _can_ see the lie. Enough to give him some semblance of free will back.'

'So … he's gone - how does that help us get out of the cage?' Cordelia asked.

'We can assume he has gone to find Kali,' Wesley said. 'And, in all probability, wherever Kali is, Doyle will be there with her. If Groo can find them - free Doyle - then all might not be lost. Our only hope of escape is pinned on Groo's innate goodness - that the Groosalug is as much an undefeated champion in his soul as he is on the battlefield.'

* * *

Groo arrived at the church and walked inside He could smell Kali's scent on the air, she was close by. But the way was boarded off - and blocked by the cops who guarded the door. A few more steps and he was face to face with them 'Greetings,' the Groosalug nodded to them.

'Hi … uhm - you're not supposed to be here,' one of the cops said.

'Yeah - nobody is allowed in. Jasmine's orders,' the other agreed, smiling as he thought of his divinity.

'Well - not order per se,' the first cop said, thoughtfully. 'More like a request really. I mean, it's not like she actually gives orders. It's not in her nature. It's one of the things I love about her.' He chuckled. 'She treats everyone with equal -'

'I need to get in there,' Groo interrupted.

'OK, friend... we're not communicating. You can't, so turn around and leave now, or my partner and I are gonna have to get rough.'

'Please,' his partner reminded him.

'Oh right, yeah,' he turned to Groo, 'please.'

The Groosalug seized the nearest cop and threw him against the far wall. Then he smashed his fist into the face of the other, knocking him out cold. Then he raised his foot and kicked down the door - cracking it in two; wooden splinters flying in every direction.

...

Doyle had been sat on the floor, his back resting against the bier and his eyes closed. But they flew open in alarm when he heard the door get kicked down. He stared up at the man standing framed in the doorway - down the other end of the aisle. 'Groo.' He swallowed nervously.

'Your Majesty.'


	83. Peace Out: Part Three

_Part Three_

Doyle scrambled to his feet and backed away, nervously, 'listen, bud - whyever she's sent you here…' But Groo ignored him and went straight to Kali's side. He bowed his head in respect - and grief. 'My Lady,' he said quietly, 'I am glad to find you unharmed … though it saddens me to see you have not yet awakened… I am worried, my lady, I wish I could truly speak with you - that you give me your counsel … I am afraid we have both made a grievous mistake.'

From the corner, Doyle stared at him - watching - and wondering.

* * *

The green light shone through the room - dazzlingly bright, absorbing the life, the essence and the material bodies of Jasmine's adoring followers; their lives given, unknowingly, to nourish the higher power and make her stronger. Once the greenish glow reached the pinnacle of its intensity - and all traces of the followers had been soaked up, every last drop - it began to die away again, becoming less blinding and shrinking away - retreating from the corners of the room and condensing around the locus point that was Jasmine.

Had anyone happened to be watching, they would have seen - as the light dwindled into a smaller and smaller ember - just the briefest glimpse of what appeared to be a tentacle, or two. Then there was a sound; not one that any normal person would be able to identify or recognise - but that would nevertheless sound, to their minds, like flesh being rearranged. And then the light disappeared completely - and Jasmine was stood there - and had anyone been watching they would have forgotten immediately the disturbing things they had just witnessed, as they fell to worshipping her. But, of course, there was no one watching - Jasmine did not leave witnesses behind when she fed.

She stood in the centre of the room, her hand resting on her belly as she enjoyed the after effects of a big and delicious meal. 'Mmmm…' she smacked her lips. 'There. Time for my close up.'

* * *

'My Lady - you asked me to protect you, you asked me to protect your child. And I swore to do so,' the Groosalug said. Doyle watched from the corner, keeping quiet. Groo had taken hold of Kali's hand and was speaking only to her. He ignored the lurking half demon completely. 'You told me that your child was good - that they would end all suffering on this earth - make everything better. She is here now and … at first, I confess, it seemed that what you had claimed was true. The love. The peace. It was like no other. But now…' he frowned and looked away from Kali's peaceful face, grimacing in pain. 'I know she is harming people,' he confessed, 'for her own needs. And I look and I see how her very existence has harmed you and I wonder … was it all a lie? When you asked me to protect you - was none of it real, either?'

'Groo,' Doyle said quietly - stepping out of his corner, his hands raised to show he was no threat. 'That was never Kali. Jasmine took hold of her once the sun was blotted out and everything after was Jasmine. She acted through Kali's body, controlled it. It was Jasmine who asked you to protect her - protect herself. It was Jasmine that turned you against us - and convinced you to kidnap that innocent girl, use her blood so that she could be born. Jasmine has been lyin' to you since before she was born.'

The Groosalug's brow furrowed. He breathed very deeply. He didn't look angry - but he looked pained and confused. 'How is that possible?'

'She's ancient,' Doyle told him - creeping a few more steps closer. 'This is what she does. She chooses a world, infects a woman and creates herself a new body so she can live on this plane of existence.'

'Why? What does she want?'

'To rule the earth. To be worshipped and adored … then she gets bored and moves on to another world and abandons everyone she claimed to love. Leaves 'em empty… Groo?' He was practically at his side now, 'how are you here? Can you see her for what she is now?'

But Groo wasn't listening. He looked like he was thinking, deeply - deeper than he had ever thought in his life. His face showed the struggle as he wrestled to come to terms with ideas far too complex for him to handle. 'I don't understand how something so beautiful can do so much evil,' he said.

Doyle's heart sank in his chest. Groo couldn't see her - he wasn't like the rest of them. But Doyle could show him. 'Her beauty is a lie too,' he said, 'the reality is …' he shook his head, 'well lemme put it this way, there's a reason people who see her true face immediately try to attack her… I can show you.' He took out his pocket knife. 'Give me your hand.'

Still looking confused - Groo held his hand out, palm up. Doyle slashed across it with his blade and then cut open his own. He grabbed Groo's hand then, interlocking their fingers and pressing the two wounds against each other. He held on until he saw the undefeated champion's eyes grow wide in horror and disgust. Then he let go - and Groo staggered backwards.

'Y'see?' Doyle asked him.

'I see the truth,' Groo said, he gripped his hand to stem the bleeding. 'She is a monster,' he dropped his cut hand and drew his sword, 'she must be stopped.'

* * *

The lobby was as crowded as ever - the tension and anticipation was heightening, as it got ever closer to time. The satellite links were up and ready across the world and now it was just a matter of waiting for Jasmine to make her appearance. Tracy Bellows and her camera crew had staked out a spot - where the balcony on which Jasmine would appear was directly behind the reporter, so the camera would catch her arrival. 'I can tell you, Hal, there is a feeling of terrific anticipation in the room - as I'm sure there is for our countless brothers and sisters across the globe watching this broadcast,' she said to the newscaster back in the KTLA studio.

A little distance away, the reporter from another news channel was filming his own piece to camera. 'Many of us have already been touched by her power and her glory. And for those who've yet to experience the sublime benevolence of Jasmine, this will easily be the most momentous day in recorded history.'

Over by the door to Angel's office, the Spanish language news channel was also addressing their audience in preparation for Jasmine's appearance. '_Holy Jasmine will give her message in all known languages. Depending on her comments, this transmission might continue until next weekend.'_

_..._

In the corridor outside of Jasmine's rooms, Patience - Jasmine's assistant - ran after the young man who had been attacked by Groo. She was trying to stop him, determined that the holy goddess not be disturbed. She grabbed hold of him and they began to tussle, as he fought his way from her grip and ran on, so adamant was he that he had to deliver this message. 'I told you she can't be disturbed,' Patience yelled after him.

'But I need to tell her - she needs to know.'

Jasmine stepped out of her room. 'Know what?'

Patience bowed her head, 'this young man says he was attacked.' Jasmine looked at him - she smiled. 'Jeremy - why would anyone...'

'He forced me to tell him,' Jeremy dropped to his knees, 'where I took her - your mother.'

'Groo,' Jasmine said, darkly.

'I'm sorry, ma'am,' Patience said to her, 'but your press conference…'

'Yes, thank you.' She walked away from the pair of them - her mood was black.

...

There was a sudden intake of breath and a ripple of excitement as she suddenly appeared walking along the landing above the lobby. Tracy Bellows flushed with the exhilaration of her incipient encounter. 'Oh, I believe that... Yes, she may be... Yes, yes, Jasmine. She's primed. Isn't she beautiful?'

As Jasmine appeared at the balustrade, the whole crowd dropped to their knees and cheered her name.

Despite the turmoil churning inside of her - as she considered how she was losing her grip on the Groosalug, as the fear that her power was slipping dug into her insides - she smiled out at the crowds, beneficently. She showed no outward sign of her anger or her disquiet. Let some of them slip away from her one by one, she would use this moment to tighten her chokehold on the world - grip every other being, so that the few that got away stood no chance against her. It was time to go global - she was strong enough now. So she had lost Groo, as well? She was about to gain 5 billion other worshippers - and she would have them tear the undefeated champion limb from limb.

'Please,' she said, opening her arms wide and beaming down at the gathered crowds - and at the gathered cameras, 'please stand.' The crowd got to their feet and she looked out at them, basking in the warmth of their love. 'This is a moment to cherish, and I want everyone to share it with me, heads held high. Welcome. And to all those people of this remarkable world who are meeting me for the first time…' she blew a kiss out to the crowd - slow and exaggerated. 'Mwahhh. I want to thank you for allowing me to speak with you. I come to you not as a leader or divinity, but as your partner in a venture to make this the best of all possible worlds, without borders, without hunger, war, or misery. A world built on love, respect, understanding, and, well, just enjoying one another. Doesn't that sound nice?'

The crowd roared their approval, cheering and whooping and banging their hands together in thunderous applause. And Jasmine felt herself relax - knowing that this was the reception she was getting right across the planet. She had them all now - she needed them all and they were hers. That little band of renegades could not hurt her.

* * *

Down in the basement - the team all looked up at the ceiling as they heard the wild applause going on above their heads. 'What is that?' Fred asked.

'Jasmine's world debut, I expect,' Wesley told her.

Gunn stopped his incessant kicking of the door, as a horrible thought struck him. He felt empty - and alone - as the realisation hit. 'So that's it,' he said, heavily, 'we're the only ones left. It's just us now.'

'And we can't fight the whole world,' Cordelia added, sadly, cuddling Connor for comfort.

'That's all folks,' Lorne said. And then they fell back into silence - heavy and dejected. Gunn went back to kicking the door.

* * *

'You can't kill her,' Doyle told the Groosalug.

'Your Majesty - perhaps you do not understand? She is a monster and she must die. It is the Groosalug's sworn duty…'

Doyle smiled, in spite of himself, 'I understand fine, Groo - I've been sayin' as much for weeks now. But when I say you can't kill her I mean literally _you_ can't kill her. She is way more powerful than anything any of us have ever faced.'

'If we cannot kill her then….'

'Ah - hold up there, bud, I didn't say _we_ can't kill her. I said _you_. Someone can.'

The Groosalug snorted in disbelief, 'there is someone who can best this creature where the Groosalug would fail? I do not believe it.'

'Believe it, bud.'

'Who?'

'Me.' Doyle told him, 'I can … and Kali - but she's not awake, right now. So it's down to me. I can stop all this, I can put it right … but I'm gonna need your sword.'

Groo looked down at the blade in his hand - and then up at Doyle. 'You are not as proficient with a blade as the Groosalug, Your Majesty,' he warned.

'Only her parents can hurt her - and I'm her da'. I don't need to be proficient - I just need to stick her with the pointy end.'

The Groosalug looked back down at his sword. 'Truly - you are a man with the mark of destiny upon him,' he said, slowly. 'The bearer of the visions, the promised one, the messiah of my people and now the only one with the strength and power to save your entire world from this most ancient evil. The Powers must have seen much of what this sorry world would need in the years to come and fashioned themselves one who could bear it all, when they brought your life into being. Men like you - they are rare, in this world or any other.'

Doyle shuffled his feet and rubbed his neck, awkwardly, 'well there's no need to put all that on a fella's shoulders,' he protested, 'I'm nothin' special really - it's all just been a big misunderstandin' … but we are where we are - and I guess I am who I am, destiny accepted… can I have your sword?'

Groo hesitated a moment longer - and then handed it across. 'May your Gods go with you, Your Majesty,' he said. Doyle nodded, 'thanks,' and then he ran off, down from the altar and past the rows of pews - his sword raised. 'Your Majesty,' Groo called after him. He turned and look back. 'When you slay Jasmine - will my Lady Kalimania wake up from her sleep, then?'

Doyle lowered his sword and looked back at the champion and the comatose woman, sadly. 'I'm not sure it works that way, Groo,' he said, softly, 'I'm sorry.'

'Then take her life to pay for Kali's.'

Doyle nodded again - and then turned away and ran for the door.

* * *

'Now I know you have lots of important questions for me -' Jasmine said to the gathered reporters, 'difficult questions. And I want you to know everything. So I'm going to open up the floor.' The reporters all raised their hands - ready to ask everything that the people watching around the globe would want to know. Jasmine pointed down, 'Yes, Tracy?'

Tracy Bellows looked shocked - her question immediately flew from her mind as she was faced with the indescribable knowledge - 'you know my name?' she said. It was hard not to cry with happiness. She was known - seen - by this goddess. She really did know her. She really did care. It was more than Tracy could ever have imagined.

'Yes,' Jasmine smiled - looking amused at Tracy's bewilderment, 'what was your question?'

But Tracy could not move past the wonder, 'you know my name,' she repeated. This time, Jasmine gave her a pitying smile and moved along. 'Anyone else?' she said looking around at the other reporters as Tracy stood, uncomprehending, in her own private ecstasy.

The male reporter put his hand up, 'uh - excuse me, Jasmine - what can we do to show our love for you?'

'You don't have to do anything but love each other!' she told them - beaming round at them, her arms spread wide once more. There was a murmuring through the crowds, as they all agreed to love each other for Jasmine … that she asked so little of them. Then she added her caveat. 'Though a … _temple_ … would be nice.' She remembered her old temple - in the old world. Built with stone on top of a mountain where all could see it - it would stand for a thousand generations. And this new temple would be even better. 'Something massive and awe inspiring,' She described what she wanted - and then remembered herself. 'yet warm and nurturing, celebrating the gentle pleasures of a peaceful, precious coexistence where violent behav -'

She was cut off by the crowd gasping and drawing back in shock. Bright blue lightning suddenly ripped the air apart and crackled in the atmosphere. The tear between realities opened up and grew wider - becoming the swirling blue gateway that led to the insect's world. A moment later - Angel stepped out of the portal and into the middle of the crowd. He held the blue orb in one hand - his key between the dimensions - and the severed head of the Keeper of the Name in his other.

Jasmine felt her breath stop inside of her - felt her heart turn to ice and her stomach to lead as she saw what this vampire renegade had achieved. The danger he now presented. 'Kill him!' she snapped at her followers, 'all of you! Kill him now!'

The crowd mobbed towards him - moving as one, like the tide - ominous and angry. But he held the severed head up - warding them off - and they all backed away. It was a gruesome curio - it was no surprise they backed away from it. He stared up at Jasmine - looking right into her eyes. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

'Don't,' she said, shaking her head slightly. Her tone was somewhere between a command - and begging. But he did not follow her commands any more - and her pleas fell on deaf ears. He took out a knife - and sliced open the stitches that had kept the Keeper's mouth sewn shut for all these aeons.

The Keeper's jaw fell open - releasing the breath that had been held for more millennia than man could count - and, as it did, the name fell from between its lips. The noise which escaped sounded like no word or language ever heard on this world - it was a long, breathy utterance with no discernible sounds. But - whatever it was - it held the power that Angel had been promised. As the name escaped from the Keeper's lips, the spell cloaking Jasmine - hiding her true appearance - began to falter and fade. Her face glowed green - growing brighter and brighter - and when it died back it had ripped her beauty away from her. Her true face - the crawling maggots; the decaying flesh; the eyeless sockets; the oozing blood; the jagged, rotten maw where her gracious smile used to be - was revealed to everyone standing in the lobby. And it was broadcast around the world, beamed into billions of homes in every nation on earth.

And then the screaming started. The panicked, frantic stampede as everyone in the lobby trampled over all the cables, equipment and each other as they shoved and fought their way out; howling in fear - and with the pain of their loss.

'No!' Jasmine called to them. She glowed white - trying to use her power to make it alright, give her the appearance of a goddess once more. But there was too much power in her true name - and she could not fight magic as old and as deep as that. Name magic was even older than she was. She glowed until the maggots were hidden, until she had eyes again … but she could do nothing about her decaying flesh - and her former followers continued to scream - continued to run from her. 'Please. Pay no attention. It's a lie. See? I—I'm not—' But they knew what was the real lie now - they could see the truth. The people up on the balcony with her stumbled back as she turned to them - and then turned away and fled, shrieking in horror. 'Wait!' she cried after them, 'please! Don't leave me!'

But no one listened. Everyone ran in every direction: pushing and shoving and falling over in their desperation to get away.

Down in the lobby, Angel stood in the middle of the terrified scrum. He stared up at Jasmine, as she blundered around, begging people to love her. They all just screamed and ran from her. She stood and looked around, desperately seeking a way out. She ran away, herself, then - and Angel followed after her.

* * *

The team all looked upward again. The rapturous applause had only been minutes before - but now … now the sounds coming from above were of a very different nature. It sounded like a massacre was happening up there. 'What on earth is that?' Lorne asked.

'It doesn't sound good,' Fred said, 'I don't know what …'

'I'll tell you what it was,' Gunn kicked the door, 'the devourer chowing down,' he kicked the door again, 'and I bet you we're dessert.'

Just then, Connor, cuddled in Cordelia's arms, opened his mouth and started to howl; a piercing shriek of pain and agony. He hadn't cried since Jasmine had got here … but now he was screaming and screaming and wouldn't stop. 'Shh shh, baby,' Cordelia said to him, jigging him up and down - trying to soothe him. But it didn't work. He cried and he cried - his little face all red and scrunched up, his mouth a wailing black 'o'. 'I can't make him stop,' Cordy said to the others. 'If he carries on like this he'll make himself sick.'

'Give him here,' Wesley held his arms out for him and took him off the woman. He, too, cuddled the little boy close and shushed him - but nothing was working. Nothing was soothing the pain Connor was feeling - and they didn't know what was wrong. Or what to do.

Gunn went back to kicking the lock. 'Gunn,' Wesley snapped, over the sound of Connor's yells, 'will you stop wasting your -'

Gunn kicked the door again, his foot clanged against the iron - as always - but this time … the door swung open. He looked around at the others - vindicated and a little smug. 'Never give up, never surrender.'

They all stared at the open cage and then Wesley headed for the exit, 'let's go,' he said, carrying the still screaming Connor out.

'That's it?' Gunn called after him, frowning as the others filed past him out of the cage, 'no 'thank you'?'

'Thanks Charles,' Fred said as she walked past him.

'I just want my props is all,' he muttered as he followed on behind.

* * *

Jasmine staggered through the dark streets. It wasn't just that it was night - everything was dark, everything was wrong. The black despair was inside her and everyone else - as well as in the night sky. Alarms were sounding; people were running and screaming; there were traffic jams and horns blaring; there were even fires burning in the streets. No one was loving each other - no one was praising each other. No one was praising her...

She limped round a corner and came face to face with a crying woman - whose whole expression turned from desperate sorrow to horror, when she saw the rotting face of her former deity right in front of her. 'Oh - oh my god!' Jasmine tried to take hold of her arm, but she twisted away from her grip and ran away screaming. 'No!'

'Don't be afraid!' Jasmine called after her. Her own voice was pained. 'It's still me!' She needed their love, she couldn't survive without it. She needed them to see that she was still who she had always been - there was no lie - it did not matter, nothing had really changed. 'I'm still…' she was hit in the face by a rotting vegetable, thrown by a crying man - made angry and violent by his terror.

Everyone had been made violent by their terror - everything was lost. No one would listen. These little creatures, they didn't want love, or happiness or perfection - no matter what they said. They had been right when they called themselves worthless - said they didn't deserve her. They didn't deserve her. If they couldn't love her now, they were nothing - unevolved animals doomed to hate and fight and fear. They were not worthy of what she had offered them … but she was nothing without them, either. All alone. She staggered on...

* * *

Doyle ran back down Santa Monica Boulevard. He wore his demon face and gripped his sword, using his added senses and stamina to track Jasmine and reach her quicker. He knew something must have gone down. The city - once so peaceful and tranquil and still - was a writhing mess of violence and horror. Chaos bled from every corner. People screamed; fires burned; horns blared; cars swerved across the road, not caring what - or who - they hit. The angry frenzy of pandemonium reminded him of the eternal midnight that had heralded Jasmine's arrival. It was a similar kind of mess - a thousand individual riots smashing against each other.

He ran on - pushing through the hordes of screaming and crying people. Normally, he would never wear his demon face in public like this - would never risk being seen. But tonight - in the middle of this din - it didn't matter. He might be a monster carrying a lethal weapon - but he was also the only one who could stop all this, and he knew the screams and the fear was not being caused by him. No one even noticed him. Whatever had gone down - it was safe to say that peace on earth and good will to all men was officially over.

* * *

Jasmine stumbled down the middle of the road - crossing the 6th street bridge. Cars roared past either side of her, blaring their horns, swerving out of her way, Their headlights dazzled her. She came to a stop and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare.

'Jasmine, it's over.' The vampire's voice was directly behind her. 'You've lost.' She turned to look at him. 'I've lost?' her voice was anguished but disbelieving. 'Do you have any idea what you've done?'

'What I had to do.'

She shook her head. So stupid. So stubborn. So unable to understand the true purpose - the real truths of the universe; it's meaning. But then that was because he was so hopelessly small. 'No,' she told him, 'no Angel - there are no absolutes.' They were standing a short distance apart, and she had to raise her voice to be heard over the engines and the horns - calling across to him. It strained her voice to have to yell when everything hurt so much. 'No right and wrong. Haven't you learned anything working for The Powers? There are only choices. I offered paradise. You chose this!' She flung her arm out, gesturing to the madness - and all the pain he had brought back into the world.

'Because I could,' he yelled back at her. 'Because that's what you took away from us. Choice.'

She laughed - a bitter, hurt filled, mirthless laugh. 'And look what free will has gotten you.'

'Hey. I didn't say we were smart. I said it's our right. It's what makes us human.'

'You're not human!' she yelled in exasperation.

'Working on it.'

* * *

Doyle was several blocks south, now - passing through Central L.A and headed for Downtown. He had caught scent of her - was on the trail. He was glad of his demon abilities, right now. There was no way he could run this fast and this far if he was just a man. Certainly not as the short, out of shape man he actually was. But he wasn't there yet. He took another deep breath and then put on another burst of speed.

* * *

Jasmine turned and began to walk away from the vampire. 'Where are you going?' he called after her.

'Leave me alone,' she said without stopping or looking back. But he followed her anyway. 'Sorry, can't do that.'

'Why? You've taken everything. You're gonna try to kill me now? As if you could.'

Angel only shrugged, unimpressed. 'Maybe not - but I'll die before I let you hurt anyone else.'

'You're already dead!' - again the note of exasperation.

'You know what I mean. It ends right here.'

She stopped and stared at him. She was crying, weakly - and when she spoke her voice was weak, also. 'Why do you hate me so much?'

'Let's run down the list, huh? Rain of fire, blotting out the sun, enslaving mankind, and, oh, yeah, hey, you eat people!'

'Like you never have!'

'Thousands of people are dead because of what you've done.'

She walked back to him then and stared up into his face - this little maggot of a man. This vermin. This supposed champion of the powers of light - he had no idea of just how inconsequential he was. How nothing he would do would ever matter. Would never make a difference. But she had been able to make that difference. She had had the power to make everything better - and he had stolen it, without knowing what it meant - unable to use it for himself. He would never know - never understand - just what he had done, how he had condemned all the people he was supposed to save. She would make him see - if his little brain could comprehend it. She would tell him.

'And how many will die because of you? I could've stopped it, Angel. All of it. War, disease, poverty. How many precious, beautiful lives would've been saved in a handful of years? Yes, I murdered thousands ... to save billions.' But his hard expression, his unforgiving face, told her that he still didn't understand. That he still thought he was the good guy. That what he did mattered. She walked away - to the edge of the bridge - and stared down at the road beneath it. 'This world is doomed to drown in its own blood now,' she said, softly. Bitterly.

'The price was too high, Jasmine. Our fate has to be our own, or we're nothing.'

She looked back at him, 'like me?'

He walked over to stand beside her. He too looked out over the side of the bridge. They were up high and - as always for him - the world shrank away, receded, now he was at a height. Made it more peaceful. All the chaos down there was muted by distance. 'Look, we've all done horrible things. All we can do is try and make up for it. So, OK, you know, it's not the world that you wanted, but maybe you can still help us make it better, even if you have lost your powers.'

She looked down at the distant ground beneath her - thinking - and then back up at Angel. 'Not all of them,' she said - and she swung her fist at him so hard that he was thrown over the side of the bridge. He tumbled through the air and then landed with a heavy crash, smashing into the hood of a car.


	84. Peace Out: Part Four

_Part Four_

Angel groaned - he felt the metal crack and buckle beneath his sudden weight, and then a moment later the ache of the fall flooding into his body, he felt his bones shoot with pain and his muscles sing in agony. He rolled, still groaning - and caught sight of Jasmine standing on top of the bridge - a station wagon held above her head. He rolled the other way on the hood, looked through the windshield and made eye contact with the shellshocked driver. 'Run,' he said. The driver unbuckled their seat belt, flung open their door and fled - just as Jasmine threw the station wagon. 'You think the price was too high?' she yelled down at him, 'you haven't begun to pay!'

The station wagon plummeted to earth, snapping a power cable as it fell. Angel - ignoring the pain he was already in - jumped out of the way just in time. The station wagon hit the ground and exploded. Debris flew in every direction - and Angel ducked out of the way, raising his arms to shield himself from the heat of the flames from the exploding gas tank. Through the smoke and the fire and the crackling electricity flying from the power cable - Angel watched Jasmine leap from the bridge. She fell a hundred feet, her dress blowing around her in the breeze, and then landed upright - and started walking towards him without missing a step. She was menacing. Angry. 'Maybe you're right,' she yelled at him, 'maybe I can still make this world a better place…' she picked him up and then punched him in the face - sending him flying across the road. 'One body at a time.'

Angel landed beside the snapped power cable, still fizzing and sparking and jumping around like a live snake. He glanced down at it. Jasmine was coming towards him again. 'I loved this world. I sacrificed everything I was to be with you.'

'So you could rule us?' he asked - unimpressed with the depth of her sacrifice.

'Because I cared,' she retorted. 'The other Powers don't. Never really did. You know that's true, in your heart.' She grabbed him again - he snatched at the power cable. 'Shame now I gotta rip it out.'

But before she could strike another blow, he stuck her with the live end of the cable. She dropped him and was knocked back a few feet. She staggered - but recovered immediately and headed back towards him. 'I was forged in the inferno of creation, vampire. Do you really think a little electricity would destroy me?'

He shrugged. 'Worth a shot.' He punched her. It didn't make a difference. She didn't even blink. She grabbed him by the shirt front and raised him above her head, then she threw him down the road. He hit a lamp post and it snapped in two on impact, then he hit the floor, hard. He rolled over onto his front, groaning with the pain - again - and began to drag himself away, coughing up blood. But Jasmine walked over to him and put her foot on his back - pinning him to the ground. She grabbed his hair and yanked his head back and upwards so she was looking into his face. 'Remember the prophecy, Angel? The one that says in the time of the apocalypse, you'd play a major part? How you never knew whether you'd be on the side of good or evil? Well, now you know. '

She dragged him back up from the floor and threw him against a chain link fence - holding him against it with her forearm across his neck. 'Thanks to you, this frail, little Power That Was has just enough strength in her to wipe out your whole species. And it's all on your hands.'

He pushed her away from himself and then punched her. 'This isn't my fault!' he yelled. She seized him by the throat and squeezed. 'Go to hell,' he said to her. She chuckled. 'You first, baby.' And then she grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face towards hers, pressing their lips together, forcing him into a kiss. He struggled - but she just clamped on harder.

'Y'know…' a voice said from behind them. 'That's my daughter you're mackin' on there, bud.'

Jasmine dropped Angel and turned to look. Her father was stood there, holding onto the Groosalug's sword - like he intended to use it. Like he was going to stop her.

Angel stared across at his friend, gasping in horror and revulsion after his kiss with the decaying goddess. 'Doyle.'

* * *

Cordelia and Lorne walked through the lobby, searching. Wesley sat on the round sofa - futilely trying to shush Connor. It wasn't working - the baby was inconsolable. Gunn came down the stairs and Fred came in from the garden. 'Find anyone?' Wesley asked - his voice slightly raised so he could be heard over the screams of Connor.

'We got ourselves a ghost hotel,' Gunn told him. Up until tonight all 68 rooms had been occupied - and the lobby had been constantly packed with the devoted. But now everywhere was deserted - no sign of anyone. And all their stuff lay scattered around, abandoned.

'Garden's empty,' Fred said, 'this is incredibly creepy.'

Lorne shot her a reassuring glance, 'only in a post apocalyptic 'night of the comet' kind of way.'

'Yeah …' Cordelia agreed, 'this is no big.' She frowned and picked up an abandoned purse, wondering what would have to happen to make a woman leave it behind like that. 'I'm sure everybody's just …'

'Dead,' Lorne pronounced. Cordelia and Fred both looked at him in alarm. But he was holding up the remote control and pointing it at the T.V. The screen was all blank and fuzzy. 'Dead air,' he clarified, 'T.V station's going offline. Something big went down.'

Gunn's foot hit against something, as he was going over to get a closer look at the T.V. He glanced down. It was a severed head of … something. Some kind of gnarly, nasty looking demon - who seemed to have had its lips stitched together at one point, as the fraying edges of the stitches were still embedded in its flesh. He picked it up, 'yeah - and here's its head.'

They all gathered round to look. 'Angel,' Wesley said realising.

'You sure?' Fred asked. He nodded. Cordelia stared at the head in Gunn's hand. 'He went to that world to get Jasmine's name,' she said. 'You think this is the guy that knew it? You think he found what he was looking for?'

'I'm sure of it,' Wesley nodded. He looked at the crying baby in his arms. 'He found the name - and it somehow broke the spell. That's what happened here - the screams were people seeing Jasmine's true face … Connor crying - remember how we all felt at first? He's lost her - he has his free will back.'

'Sucks to be him right now,' Gunn said.

'Aww come on little buddy,' Lorne tweaked Connor's foot, 'it's not all bad. Sure there's a sucking void in your chest where perfect love and happiness used to be but - hey - you can now _choose_ to ignore your pain and true feelings by drowning your sorrows in a SeaBreeze … or a big bottle of milk, I guess? It's not quite the same ...'

'So… if the whole of Los Angeles feels like Connor, right now -' Fred said, looking troubled, 'what's going on out there?'

'Whatever is happening, it can't be good,' Wesley said.

'We should get out there and help,' said Gunn, heading for the weapons cabinet. But Cordelia shook her head, she had other ideas. 'Help people second,' she said, 'first we gotta get to Doyle. He's alone out there - we need to find him.'

'And Angel,' Wesley agreed - 'we need to get to them both before Jasmine does. We'll split into teams. Lorne - you stay here with Connor. Cordy, Gunn - grab your weapons and get tracking Doyle. She'd have put him somewhere safe but close by - where she could reach him if she needed him. Fred, you and I will look for Angel. We can't trust that the cells will be working - not if the televisions are down - so we'll do this old school. Everyone meet up here in 2 hours if they're not dead - and report progress. Lorne you're command central.'

'Aye aye cap'n.'

Lorne took hold of Connor, 'I better find myself some earplugs,' he muttered - and the others grabbed their chosen weapons from the cabinet.

'Where are we gonna even look for Doyle?' Cordelia asked. Gunn frowned. 'You know … they called Irish the 'holy father' a lot. Jasmine's a goddess.' He quirked an eyebrow. 'I reckon it might be time for us to go to church.'

'Right - good thinking - we'll do a circular search,' Cordy planned - as they headed for the front door. 'Sweep every church in a one mile diameter and then keep moving …' she stopped talking as Gunn pulled the door open and they both saw what was out there. Fred and Wesley joined them - and they too stared out, frozen. 'Oh my God,' Fred breathed.

* * *

Jasmine stared at Doyle - he stared back at her, sword in hand. 'You!' she screamed at him, incandescent with rage. 'Look at what you've caused to happen - this world - this chaos! You were never meant to be my father. I was meant to have a father who loved me!' There was pain in her voice as well, real loss - genuine sadness at having been rejected by her own father, and the memory of what was supposed to have been. 'Who would have protected me! The man I chose for my father would have given me the world … and instead I got _you!_'

'Yeah well - I'm a constant disappointment to everyone, what can I say?' Doyle shrugged. For all that she was menacing him, screaming her anger and her hurt in his face, he didn't move - didn't flinch. She still couldn't hurt him - even now - not without harming herself. And they both knew it.

'You stole the world from me,' she raged, 'you ruined _everything!_'

He nodded - that was fair. 'I got a bad habit o' doin' that.'

'You were never meant to live!' she screamed, 'your death was foretold - aeons ago. You were supposed to gift your visions to my chosen mother in your moment of death. It was your destiny - and you failed it. You were the promised one. You were supposed to save your people, but now you've destroyed them. Your continued existence has stolen peace and happiness from everyone on the planet.' She stepped back from him and flung her arms open wide - gesturing to the madness around them. 'So take a good hard look at your accomplishment, father. Look at the world you helped to create. Good Job! Are you happy now?'

He stared at her - her rotting face, her decaying body - her arms flung wide open exposing her soft centre. 'No I'm not happy right now,' he answered, 'but give it a couple o' seconds.' He lunged forward, sword raised and plunged the blade right into her torso, driving it through her gut with all his strength, and then thrusting it upwards towards her heart. He rammed it in all the way to the hilt, so their faces were only inches apart. He stared directly into her shocked and frozen face - her mouth open in a round 'o' of surprise and pain. 'There - that feels better,' he said - and twisted the sword inside of her. She jolted and gasped in pain 'This is for everythin' you did to me,' he told her. He twisted again. 'And that's for what you did to Kali.' She shuddered again - blood began to pour from her mouth - and Doyle pulled the sword back out from her, yanking as hard as he could - trying to cause maximum pain. She screamed as the blade slid back out from between her ribs and then swayed on the spot. The blood dribbled from her mouth and flowed from her abdomen. 'Father…' she said, quietly - and then dropped to the floor. Dead.

He tilted his head to one side - and considered the body on the floor. It was already decayed and rotten - there was not much in the way of decomposition needed before she was mulch, slime and nothing at all. This former higher power - who had highjacked his body, used his hands to murder innocent people, used a whole lot more of him to rape Kali - violating him just as badly in the process, and then tossed him away like a used up cigarette packet, but not before wiping his memories: violating his mind the way she had violated his body. And after all that - she was dead. Just like any other monster. For all her power, for all her scheming, for all her aeons of careful preparation - now she was just another carcass on the floor. She wouldn't get another crack at this world - or any other. She couldn't hurt Doyle again. As he stared down at her, he felt some of the weight he had been carrying lift from his shoulders, some of the shame and dirt he'd felt in his soul just scrub away, clean. She was nothing now. And he was still standing. He tilted his head to the other side, considering her from this different angle, 'you know,' he said, 'I was right, I kinda do feel better now.'

* * *

'We have to go out there!'

'Cordelia we can't,' Wesley told her, 'the chaos - it's not safe.'

'It's never safe! - Doyle! I can't just leave him. I've gotta find him. And I am not letting an apocalypse riot get in my way.' She moved back towards the door - but Lorne barred her passage, and Wesley grabbed hold of her shoulders and pulled her back.

'Listen, Cordy,' Gunn said to her - he was now sat on the round sofa with Connor. The baby was still screaming. 'Irish has been in a tight spot before. He knows the score - he'll lay low until the madness dies down and then he'll come right back to us.'

'But …'

'He knows to come _here_,' Wesley told her, 'you have no idea where in a city of 8 million people he might be. He will get back here - in one piece. He will not be best pleased with _us_, however, if he finds out we lost _you_ in the interim.'

'I think maybe the guys are right, Cordelia,' Fred said to her, 'I think maybe you should listen to 'em.'

Cordelia stared around at them in disbelief. 'We're just gonna sit here and do nothing? Our friends are out there!'

'And they both got superpowers,' Gunn told her, 'none of us do. If it's not safe for them, it sure as hell aint safe for us out there. Sit tight - and wait for Irish to come to you. Otherwise he'll get back - and have to head straight back out again to look for you. You'll be puttin' him in more danger.'

'I know you wanna help, sugar,' Lorne said softly, still blocking the door, 'I know you're too much of a hero to hide away and wait for the danger to go away, when people you love are in trouble - but in this case, I really think it is for the best.'

'Of course it is,' Wesley said. 'If Doyle is not back by dawn then we will go and look for him, Cordelia - I promise. But until then we stay put.'

She glanced towards the back door, wondering if she could make a dash for it - but Wesley saw and moved to bar that way as well. She sighed deeply and sank down on the red sofa. 'Fine,' she said, throwing up her hands. 'I'll just do nothing whilst Doyle is stuck out there and hell's come to town. 'Cause I know that's exactly what he would do if it were me … oh no wait - he wouldn't. He'd do everything he could to find me.'

'You don't have superpowers,' Wesley pointed out to her.

'It's not like he's a slayer! His powers are lame!'

'But they still give him an advantage. One you don't have - and one the people out there creating their very own apocalypse don't have, either.'

'Yeah - I just bet he's gonna complete the word jumble at them in record time. That'll protect him.'

'I think he might use his spikes before he goes to the crossword stuff,' Gunn said, giving her a pointed look. 'Plus added strength, speed, stamina,' he counted Doyle's powers off on his fingers, ' - and he can jump really far. Like a big, green cat. He'll make it back.'

'You gotta remember, Cordy,' Fred said, sitting down beside her and putting a hand on her shoulder, comfortingly, 'Doyle had been hidden from everyone. He's in a good place to just keep on hidin'. And we thought he was probably with Kali, wherever they put her. Groo went to find Kali - as best we can reckon. He can track anyone. He'll have found her - and he'll be with Doyle, now. Doyle's got himself a big, undefeated champion protector who thinks Doyle's a prophecied king - he doesn't need the human contingent of AI to keep him safe.'

Cordelia sighed again - and looked towards the door. 'I just wish I knew where he was.'

* * *

'How did you do that?' Angel staggered, struggling to keep upright after his fight. Every inch of him hurt. He was bleeding from his lip and from a nasty cut above his eye - and he knew there was going to be severe bruising when he got home and stripped his clothes off. He stared at the body on the floor - it was illuminated by the flames of the nearby exploded gas tank. They cast creeping long shadows, flickering and wavering, and bathed the whole road beneath the bridge in an orange glow. He was dumbfounded. She'd nearly killed him, and Doyle just … with the pointy end of a sword.

He looked up at his friend. 'You just stabbed her,' he said. 'I nearly died fighting her. She threw a station wagon at me! I electrocuted her with a live power cable and she walked it off. And then you - _you_ \- stick her with a sword and that's it? She's dead?'

Doyle shook his head and whistled between his teeth. 'It's all very complicated and mystical,' he told the vampire. He grinned, 'a big, dumb lunk of champ sandwich like you couldn't possibly begin to understand.'

'But she is dead?'

'Definitely dead… So ends my foray into parenthood. I'm not sure I'm cut out for it.'

'Well, maybe give it a couple of years - see if you grow up any.'

'That hasn't worked for you.'

'I'm a great dad!' He staggered again, losing his footing and nearly tumbling to the floor. 'Oh! I'm a great dad in serious, serious pain.'

Doyle caught hold of him, wrapping his arm around the vampire and draping the vampire's own arm across his shoulders - helping support his weight. 'I got you,' he said, 'I guess we should get you home - before you bleed out. Cordy'll patch you up.' They began to limp away. 'Did y' come here in the Plymouth?' Doyle asked hopefully.

'No - I came across the rooftops.'

'O'course you did… so we're really gonna walk all the way to Hollywood from Downtown. It's a good job we weren't doin' anythin' physically strenuous just now - otherwise that would have been a real bind.'

'Doyle … just get me home.'

'Will do, bud.'

* * *

It was well over an hour later when the pair of them finally staggered back through the front door of the Hyperion: Angel still bleeding and Doyle seriously out of breath.

'Oh my God - Angel!' Fred jumped to her feet and hurried over to him. Gunn came over and took Doyle's place, supporting the vampire. Doyle slipped out from under Angel's arm, relieved to have that burden lifted - and Gunn led the vampire over to the couch.

'Doyle - you're alive!'

'And you're not happy?' he asked, wearily.

'I was worried!' Cordelia wrapped her arms around him, and he sagged against her - letting her hold him up for a moment. She held him close and kissed him everywhere she could reach.

'It's all gonna be OK, now,' he told her.

'What happened to you guys?' Fred asked - looking between the two returned but exhausted warriors.

'Jasmine's dead,' Angel told them, 'I brought back her name and her powers were destroyed. Doyle killed her.' He frowned. 'What's wrong with Connor?' he asked - looking over at the squalling child. Wesley picked him up and brought him over. 'We guessed as much about Jasmine's power when Connor started to cry. It's been like this for hours now. We can't get him to stop, Angel - we've tried everything, I'm sorry but …'

Angel reached out his arms for his son and then wrapped them around the baby, holding him close. Connor stopped crying at once - and Angel smiled down at him in delight, 'yeah - that's my big guy.' He looked back up - and saw the stricken and heartbroken look on Wesley's face. The realisation that it took nothing but Connor's true father to heal the baby's heart. That Wesley was not - and never would be - a match for the real deal. 'Thanks, Wes,' he said to the watcher, quietly. 'Thanks for caring for him whilst we were on the run. It means a lot to me know that - if anything ever happens to me - Connor's always got someone else who loves him as much as I do, who will be a real father to him - love him like his own son.'

'Connor has many people who will love him like their own,' Wesley said - struggling to keep his voice even, struggling to keep that upper lip stiff - as he was touched by the realisation that this was Angel's way of telling him he was finally fully forgiven for the previous year. They had moved on - Wesley was back in the fold and Angel really did trust him with Connor, again. Angel smiled - and looked around the lobby: at Fred and Gunn standing close by, at Lorne propping up the counter - a SeaBreeze in hand, at Cordy and Doyle wrapped up in each other's arms - the way they were always supposed to be, and at Wesley - who could always be depended upon to do whatever it took to protect the people he loved. No matter how hard.

'We're a family,' Angel said to them all, 'we all look out for each other, we all belong to each other - and this time things really are …'

'Back the way their supposed to be?' A woman's voice cut in. They all turned to look. Lilah was leaning against the door frame of the back door - she looked very different to the last time they had seen her - when she had been grimy and bleeding and wearing weeks old clothes. Now she was clean and slick and smart, and dressed head to toe in designer labels. She smiled at them - her old shark's smile they all knew so well. 'I wouldn't break out the balloons and streamers just yet. There's a debt to be paid, Wonder Bread - and today's collection day.'

* * *

**A/N - So Jasmine is dead but this isn't the end. There's still *a lot* to come. Next episode is the final episode of the season - called 'Home' - and part one will be posted on Friday.**


	85. Home: Part One

**_There's moments in your life that make you, that set the course of who you're gonna be. Sometimes they're little, subtle moments. Sometimes, they're not. I'll show you what I mean..._**

**Home**

_Part One_

There was silence in the hotel - as everyone stared at Lilah. 'What's the matter, Ace?' she asked Angel, 'did you forget … or did you hope it wouldn't be so soon?' She laughed a dry little chuckle, 'you can't possibly have thought we wouldn't ever really come calling? You have far too much experience of us for that.'

Everyone turned their heads to stare at Angel then - though he continued to look at Lilah, locked in her gaze; feeling the crushing weight of what she was telling him. Just when everything had been looking up. Doyle had once said to him that the past never let you go - and here was Lilah proving that point with an expertise in ironic timing.

'Angel,' there was a demanding note in Cordelia's voice, heading towards panic, 'what is she talking about?'

Lilah raised a sardonic eyebrow, 'did you never tell them? What you did. Why was that, I wonder?'

'What you did?' Fred asked, her brow was furrowed, 'what did you do?'

Angel just continued to stare at Lilah - feeling everything fall away from him. It was she that answered. She took out a what looked like a scroll and held it up, letting it drop down, unfurling it so they could see the contents. 'A contract,' she told them, 'a deal struck. Between Angel and The Senior Partners. Dated 15th March 2002. And signed in blood - Otter, I believe.'

'Angel would never strike a deal with Wolfram and Hart,' Fred said disbelievingly.

'I've an ironclad legal document here proving you wrong, twinkie. In return for power borrowed from the conduit, to bring back what was stolen, Angel signed away his life to the Senior Partners - to be used as they will...' she looked around at the team, 'and we were all there, in March last year when Angel used dark magicks to tear open a hole in reality - intending to sacrifice Linwood in order to snatch back Connor… well,' she smiled at Wesley, 'not quite all of us were there, lover.'

Wesley stared at her - and then slowly turned to look at Angel, and the little boy held in his arms. 'No,' he breathed. He sounded as crushed as Angel looked. Angel did not look back at him - and Wesley glanced around at everyone in the team, his face stricken. His eyes met Doyle's and they looked at each other long and hard - the guilt and pain, that this was the result of their actions, plain in their eyes. 'There has to be another way,' Wesley said, snapping his head back to look at Lilah. 'Me - I'll go in his place, this is all my fault. This is the result of my actions - my mistake. Angel would never have signed that contract if not for me. I should pay the price.'

'And wouldn't we live in a candyland world of bliss and perfect happiness if things were that simple?' She paused and pretended to frown, 'oh no - wait - that's the world you guys just destroyed.' She laughed again. 'You can't trade places with him. He swore a blood oath. Not his blood - of course … that poor otter, its noble sacrifice does not go unremembered.'

'Then there must be another way,' Lorne said, 'I know how it is with contracts - always room to feneigle.'

'Or I know another way,' Gunn said 'how about instead of Angel goes with you - we chop you up into little pieces and use you as fertiliser?' He walked towards her, menacingly. She just laughed. 'So intimidating,' she smirked, 'but you're aiming at the wrong girl - I'm just the messenger.'

'Hands up for shootin' the messenger?' Doyle said, raising his hand.

'Hey - you think The Senior Partners would send me here to bring Angel in if I wasn't completely 100% expendable?' she asked them. 'Kill me - go ahead - it won't change the writing on that contract. It's logged with both the lower and higher realms. Every plane of existence recognises that Angel's life belongs to The Senior Partners.'

'You think we're just gonna let them kill him?' Cordelia sounded incredulous, 'just because a few floaty Powers think a piece of paper is worth a damn? News flash lady - we just took out a Power that Was. We'll take the rest of them.'

'They're not here for you to take,' Lilah replied, coolly. 'Unlike the devourer - they're not stupid or vain enough to shuffle onto this mortal coil. Besides,' she held her hands up, 'who said anything about killing him?'

'You said…'

'I said his life belongs to us now. To do with it what we will. And if you cast your mind back to all your years of experience with us, you'll remember that - much to my chagrin - The Senior Partners' policy has never been to kill Angel. They intend to keep him alive. They intend to use him.'

'In their evil law firm?' Gunn asked, sceptically, 'he aint a lawyer!'

'No,' Doyle said, slowly, 'he's a pivotal figure in the apocalypse - and no one knows which side he's destined to fight on.'

'And now he belongs to us - aeons old question answered. Yay!'

'And what if he just refuses to come with you?' Cordy asked.

'You're not getting this, sweetie,' Lilah told her, 'he can't.' She saw Cordy open her mouth to argue and cut her off, 'and any attempts to cheat this or weasel out will only end in the subject of the deal being … terminated.'

'What the hell does that mean?' Fred asked. It was Wesley who answered her, 'she means Connor,' he said, keeping his eyes on his former lover - who smiled back at him, delighted he was keeping up. 'Angel struck this deal for Connor - if he reneges - Connor's life is forfeit.'

Angel spoke then, for the first time since Lilah had appeared. 'Are you threatening my son?' he asked - his voice was a low growl of menace. It didn't intimidate Lilah. 'Not at all,' she shrugged. 'We all know that the prophecy - the real, unadulterated prophecy - says that Connor will live to grow to manhood. So that means we don't kill him. Which means that Angel comes to us without a fuss - it's preordained. Why fight it? It's not such a bad offer.'

'Did I miss something?' Lorne asked looking between Lilah and the team, 'what was the offer?'

'The offer … is the keys to the kingdom. We're giving Angel the L.A branch of Wolfram and Hart - You get the building, assets, personnel, letterhead, paper clips, all of it. It's yours to do with as you see fit.'

'Why?' Angel asked her.

'Well, I thought that was obvious. You earned it. Think of it as a reward.'

'A reward for what?' Gunn demanded, frowning.

'Ending world peace.'

The team all stared round at each other - dismayed. 'That's not what happened,' Fred tried to argue. But Lilah did not look convinced. 'No?'

'Jasmine was creating a slave state,' Wesley said, firmly.

'Right, where the slaves are full of giggly joy and love. Ugh, what a nightmare.'

'She was eating people,' Angel said. His voice brooked no argument - this was not a right and wrong debate he was interested in getting into. He'd already had it once tonight with Jasmine - and he didn't care for it then. But Lilah disagreed - the followers had all known what they were getting themselves into.

'Her stomach?' Lorne yelled in disbelief.

'World peace comes at a price. Jasmine understood that. She consumed, what? Couple dozen souls a day? Now weigh that against ending the suffering of millions.' Lilah grinned broadly, 'but - hey - you fixed that.'

'No, we didn't. I—I mean, we did, we—we fixed it, but not in the way that you're trying to make it sound.'

'Relax Fred,' Doyle said to the floundering woman, 'Jasmine was evil - we did the right thing. It's just sometimes the right thing is a bit more complicated than stickin' the bad guy with a sword … even if that's what I actually did.'

'Jeez,' Lilah rolled her eyes in disbelief. 'It's not like it was a criticism. Anyway - time's getting away from me - here's the deal: Angel - he has to come. No choice there. The rest of you…' she looked around at them. 'You all have something valuable, something to offer. You all are loyal to Angel. So you can all come with. Every last one of you. If you want.'

'Nuhuh - no way,' Angel said. He got to his feet. 'This is the price I gotta pay. But you are not getting your hands on my family. Something has to remain of what we did here. What we hoped to achieve. Someone has to work for The Powers and help the hopeless. You stay away from the rest of them, Lilah, because you've got nothing to offer them.'

'On the contrary - I've got a turnkey, state-of-the-art, multi-tasking operation to offer them. What they choose to do with it is up to them. God knows - they're gonna need all the help they can get after the quality effort they put into ending peace on earth.'

'We ended a nefarious global domination scheme, not world peace…' Fried tried to argue again.

'Semantics,' Lilah said. 'Point is - we are where we are. And now you have to choose what you do afterwards. That's what counts. Think about our proposal. If anyone's interested and wants the grand tour, there'll be a limo waiting outside just before dawn.' She turned and began to walk back out- but she stopped just before she vanished from view, 'and hey -' she called back to them '... good job.' She left.

'We didn't end world peace!' Fred said, again, furiously. She looked around at the others for support '... right?'

* * *

The team sat around in the lobby - quiet, despondent. Doyle had passed around whiskies and everyone had one. Only Angel was missing. And Connor. Wesley wore the thousand yard stare that had taken up residence on his face when he first came to the conclusion he had to steal Connor. It was that conclusion that left them where they were today. If it hadn't been for that …

'We tried to stop him from going to Wolfram and Hart, at the time,' Cordelia said to him. 'We all did. He wouldn't listen. He was just mad with rage and fear and grief.'

'That I caused him,' Wesley said, heavily - still staring into the distance at nothing in particular. 'Doyle - and me.'

Doyle gulped, and downed his whisky - before pouring himself another.

'And now the Powers for Good have lost themselves a champion - and where on earth are they going to make up the shortfall?'

They all lapsed into silence again. It was Gunn who finally broke it. 'What do you think she meant - we're all valuable? What do you think they have in mind for the rest of us?'

'It doesn't matter!' Cordy looked at him like he was mad, 'when the queen bee of evil offers you candies to get you into her limo, you don't take them! We're not going. We'll never know.'

'You aint curious?' Gunn asked her.

'You think we should just let Angel go like that? Alone?' Fred asked her - looking surprised.

'No - I think we should find a way to stop this. But we don't stop it by tripping inside the belly of the beast like we're Hansel and Gretel and it's the gingerbread house. I met Hansel and Gretel once … there's no good there.'

'You think we can find a way to stop this darlin'?' Doyle asked her.

'I'm Cordelia Chase - I can stop anything.'

'And what do we do after that?' Gunn asked her, 'that's a whole lot of fire power you're talking about giving up.'

'We're not givin' it up, bud - we never had it.'

'You know what I mean.'

'We could do a whole lot of good with Wolfram and Hart resources,' Fred said, her voice trembling a little as she dared to voice this thought that crept across her mind like a traitor. 'More good than here - where we're always strugglin' to pay bills, goin' weeks at a time without a case…'

'We would have a further reach,' Lorne agreed, slowly. Cordelia looked incensed. 'I can't even believe I'm hearing this! They're_ Wolfram and Hart_, you can't do good by working with evil.'

'You can go in there with the best of intentions,' Doyle agreed, 'but a place like that - you don't change it - it changes you.'

'Exactly,' Cordelia nodded, vindicated.

'You sayin' we shouldn't even try?' Gunn asked.

'Yes I'm saying…'

She was interrupted then by Angel coming back downstairs. He had changed out of his torn and bloody clothes and was carrying Connor in one arm and had a small satchel slung across his other shoulder. He crossed the lobby, went behind the counter, picked up a stuffed animal, waved it in Connor's face and then put it into the satchel. He came back around the counter and looked at them all, 'you guys should all go to bed,' he said, 'it's been a long … couple of weeks.'

'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Cordelia asked him - staring at the baby and the satchel. 'You can't be serious? You can't really just be planning on strolling into Wolfram and Hart and working for them? For a start - they have vampire detectors!'

'That's not my problem,' he answered her. 'I gotta do this - there isn't a choice. If there was ever a choice - I made it last March. And I'd do it again. And I want you to know,' he glanced between Wes and Doyle, 'I did it freely. This is on me. No one else. We're all responsible for the choices we make in life, no one ever forces our hand. Sometimes we don't have good choices - but we still have choices. You guys made the best choice you could with the information you had. And I … what's done is done.'

'But you just said it,' Cordelia argued, 'we always have a choice. Angel if you go there - it's because you're _choosing_ to. They're always trying to get you, one way or another - and you always play their game. Darla ringing any bells, there, big guy? Just for once - don't let them play you. We will find a way to get you out of that contract. Just give it some time.'

'I don't have time. I've got until dawn.'

'What about the rest o' us?' Doyle asked him, 'what are we meant to do?'

'We could always go with,' Gunn pointed out, 'strength in numbers.'

'Man has a point,' Lorne agreed, 'we can't leave Angelcakes alone.'

'Angel?' Fred looked up at him. He shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'You want to get into that limo when it gets here? That's up to you. But don't do it for me - do it because you want to. It's not a decision I can make for you, for any of you, but know this: Before the ride's even over, before you even cross through their doors, you'll be corrupted. What we stand for - what we fight for - is everything Wolfram and Hart is against. A champion doesn't just give up on the good fight because the bad guys dangle a shiny bauble in front of them. They hold their ground - against all the odds. It's hard and it's everyday and we never win. Not completely. But it's who we are. Now - I can't be that person anymore. I need to know that there's still a champion out there to take my place.' He looked around at them all. 'You have to decide for yourselves what matters the most. Now all of you - get to bed. You need sleep after everything you've been through.'

'Angel -' Cordy got to her feet - her eyes were shining with tears, 'please we can …'

'Cordy,' he said quietly, 'don't make this harder than it needs to be. I have to go. You have to stay. We're on different paths now, and this is my off ramp. Doyle?' he looked across at the half demon. Their eyes met - and it was like the old days, like the intervening years had never happened. Doyle understood him perfectly - and would fight his corner to Cordelia. Bridge the gap between the vampire and the woman, when they couldn't see eye to eye - the way he had always done in the beginning. He knew it. Doyle nodded, 'yeah, man,' he said. He put his arm around Cordelia, 'come on, Princess - we need to go to bed.'

'But ...'

'Bed.' He steered her away.

The rest of the team looked at each other - and then went their separate ways.

* * *

Doyle lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. It was still dark - but it wouldn't be for much longer - he'd lain here for hours, staring. Cordelia was wrapped in his arms, her head lay on his shoulder and her left arm snaked across his chest - her fingers gently stroking his skin. He held her tighter - and traced the soft skin of her arm with his own fingertips. It had been almost a year since they had lain together like this, entangled in each other's embrace. To have her back, to hold her - it was terrifyingly new and wonderfully familiar all at once. A first time which they had now enjoyed twice. But neither of them could fully appreciate the moment. They were too busy worrying about Angel.

'It'll be light soon,' Doyle said - after what seemed like an eternity of wakefulness.

'Yeah,' Cordelia murmured.

'You think I should go with Angel?'

Her head snapped up, 'absolutely not.'

'It's my fault - mine and Wesley's. This is only happenin' 'cause we stole Connor. We should pay for that.'

'You have paid,' she replied, lowering her head back to his shoulder and wrapping her arm tighter around him - in case he was thinking of sneaking off from under her grip. 'Over and over again. Both of you. But mostly you. You paid for what you did and you earned your place back in our family. This is happening because Angel _chose_ to go to his enemies when he was desperate. We would have found another way to get Connor back - we did find another way in the end. That spell didn't work - for whatever reason - and we still have Connor.'

Doyle squirmed beneath her. 'It didn't work because of me,' he admitted, 'I - uh - I kicked over one of the doohickies whilst no one was lookin', broke the ritual.'

'Oh,' she frowned. 'That still doesn't change anything. The deal was already struck before you did that. Angel knew, walking into Wolfram and Hart, that the price would be too high; that he wasn't gonna get something for nothing and he would regret whatever he agreed to - one day. He did it anyway. That was the choice he made … I just can't believe he isn't gonna even try and fight this now.'

'I guess maybe - the price to get Connor back, nothin' was too high for him. Certainly not at the time. But welchin' on the deal? That puts Connor in danger - Angel doesn't know he'll win. And that price - that price is too high for him to even contemplate… which gets me back to - should I go with him? Should I really let him do this alone?'

'Do you want to go with him?'

'Jesus no!' He shuddered at the thought. 'And I wouldn't let you come - no matter how determined you were. You're not settin' foot in that place - so it would mean losin' y' … again. Just when … And we both know what that place is. Y' know what Lilah's done to me over the years. It's just askin' for trouble goin' there - and that's puttin' it _extremely_ mildly.'

'Right,' Cordelia agreed. 'You don't wanna go. Good. That's settled. 'cause if you're banning me from going then I'm banning you right back, buddy - this is a two way street. Besides,' she tilted her head so she was looking up at him, 'Wolfram and Hart would just love to get a hold of your visions - in a 'buy your eyeballs for 15000 dollars' kind of way. Walking in there with Angel would be just handing them over to the enemy. And I'm guessing the PTB would be hopping mad about that. They wouldn't let it lie.'

'They'd probably turn me into a toad.'

'Right ... And we've had the whole 'I love you but I can't be in a relationship with you if you're an amphibian' talk before. You belong to the Powers, Doyle. To the good fight. You can choose to abandon it - but you won't like the consequences.'

'I don't wanna abandon it,' he told her. 'I know I used to want to get rid o' the visions - would have done anythin' to be free o' 'em. But then - when I thought I'd lost 'em… It's a part of who I am now.' His voice was thoughtful, as if he was only fully realising this for himself for the first time right now. The sudden epiphany made him think about something else, as well. 'Groo said - earlier - he told me that The Powers must have created me for a reason - the vision bearer, the promised one, the King o' Pylea, Jasmine's father - and killer. That I had the mark o' destiny on me… I don't know that's exactly true. I still think this is all some big mistunderstandin'...' he frowned, 'or maybe a giant cosmic joke - and I'm the punchline… but either way - all of that is who I am now, whether it was meant to be or not. That's the path I'm followin' … and I don't wanna get off it.'

'You're a hero,' Cordelia said to him, snuggling closer, 'in your own right - not just as Angel's sidekick. You don't have to give that up just because Angel does. It's like he said - we choose to fight. It's hard and it's every day and we won't ever win. That's not why we do it. We do it because it's right - it's the right thing to do. People out there - they need us. And if Angel isn't going to be around to save them - they're gonna need us more than ever. Angel's right - it isn't showing loyalty to follow him across to the dark-side. It's loyalty to keep fighting for him, in his place, to keep standing for everything he stood for. To finish his mission for him - now it seems like he won't make it to the finish line, himself.'

'I guess you're right,' Doyle said, heavily. 'I'm just worried - Angel _was_ the mission. How can we continue without him?'

'No - the visions are the mission,' Cordelia corrected, '_you_ give us the mission - Angel was just the champion. It'll be hard without him, but … we've done it before. Angel investigations without Angel - and we did a good job.'

'You're right,' he sighed, 'even Lilah said we all had somethin' valuable to offer. Maybe we will be OK.'

'Of course we will. As long as we all stick together.'

* * *

Fred closed the door to her room quietly and snuck along the corridor, not switching on any lights. She had changed her clothes - put on her smartest, most capable looking outfit, straightened her hair and applied lipstick. She even wore heels. She didn't want to look like a girl who had spent the last two weeks on the run - living in sewers and dirt holes in the ground - when she arrived at Wolfram and Hart. If she arrived at Wolfram and Hart. She still wasn't sure. She could just turn back.

But she didn't. She crept across the lobby and pushed the back doors open, entering the courtyard. As she hurried across the little garden, she stopped to adjust her shoe. She didn't wear heels very often - she was out of practice. She hoped her ankles wouldn't give way once she got there. She wanted to look like a woman of the world - not some little girl teetering around in her mother's shoes. If she got there. She still wasn't sure. She could just turn back.

But she didn't. Instead - when she got to the gateway and saw that the limo was indeed parked there, as promised, she came to a stop. 'I'm not sure how long it's been there.' She jumped. Wesley was standing right beside her. She blushed - embarrassed to be seen going to look at the limo, being tempted. 'It was there when I arrived,' he told her.

'I thought I'd be the only one,' she mumbled guiltily, glancing at him and then looking back at the car.

'I thought for sure I wouldn't be … although I wasn't expecting you.'

She blushed even deeper, her cheeks flaming with heat. 'I just figured … if they are up to something .. well…'

'We should know what it is,' Gunn suddenly appeared out of the shadows at her other side. 'I get that.'

'They must have a plan for Angel,' Fred said, 'we owe it to him to at least check he's OK ...if he's gonna be trapped there. You know?'

'Seems like they got a plan for each of us as well,' Gunn replied, 'only right we find out what that is.'

'So …,' Wesley looked down the line at his two companions. 'We three.'

'Looks like.'

'What are the odds that the humans would prove to be more easily corruptible than two demons … and _Cordelia_?'

'Maybe we should just go back inside,' Fred suggested, as she walked slowly towards the limo - her eyes fixed on it. The two men followed her. 'What if Angel's right?' But she didn't stop.

'Yeah - and what if he's not?' Gunn countered. 'All we're gonna do is take the tour.'

'Hmm,' Wesley was thoughtful, considering. 'We go into this with our eyes open and our wits about us. There shouldn't be any…'

'Surprises?' Angel stepped away from the wall, where he had been lurking. He still held Connor and the satchel. He looked the three of them over. His expression was … sad. A little disappointed. 'Well, if this is the choice you're making,' he reached down to pull open the Limo door, 'let's get this over with.'

Loud dance music came crashing outward. Lorne was already sat inside, cocktail in hand. 'Hey,' he yelled to the driver, 'so this is an evil Limo, I get that. But does that mean we don't restock the cherries?' He turned his head and saw the four of them staring in at him. At least he had the grace to look abashed. 'Hi.'

* * *

Doyle came down the stairs - Cordelia was alone at the counter. 'We the first ones up?' he asked her, sounding a little surprised. They hadn't drifted to sleep until dawn and had been slow getting started. But then everybody else had had an equally hard couple of weeks - and probably an equally restless night. He had only woken up when he'd felt Cordy slide from his arms - and hadn't really gained meaningful consciousness until he'd heard the noise of the shower running. If she hadn't disturbed him, he didn't know how late he would have slept.

'Yep - everyone else is a no show at the moment. Coffee's on.'

He went round the back of the front desk and poured himself a cup. The world wasn't ending, he was just pouring himself a coffee like a regular member of the family, and he had just spent the night with Cordelia. If it wasn't for the loss of Angel - and his guilt over his own part in that - this morning would be pretty damn near perfect.

'Hey, Doyle?' Cordelia twisted in her seat to look at him.

'Yeah?'

'You know - when the spell was broken and everyone started freaking out at Jasmine's face full of maggots - an awful lot of women worshippers left their purses behind, here in the lobby.'

'So?'

'So … would it be so wrong if we, you know? Went through them?'

He gave her a look.

'We have bills to pay!' she protested.

* * *

There was a 'ding' as the elevator reached the right floor - and then its doors slid back. The team stared out - surprised. The L.A branch of Wolfram and Hart had been rebuilt, brand new and zombie free - it was bigger and shinier and busier than ever. The whole lobby swarmed with lawyers and paralegals and secretaries - who must have all been recruited very quickly from other branches - toing and froing, going about their business.

They stepped out into the hustle and bustle.

'Mr. Angel, good morning.'

'Good morning Mr. Angel,'

'Good morning Mr. Angel.' Every employee who walked past greeted their new boss, warmly.

'Good morning Mr Angel.'

Angel turned to the others, 'there's no way this is gonna end well,' he said to them.

They stood in the middle of the lobby as the crowds of busy lawyers swarmed past them in every direction. 'It's good to see you Mr Angel.'

'Herr Angel, welcome.'

'Good morning Mr Angel.'

'Mr. Angel, greetings.'

Angel stared after them all - as they greeted him and moved on - his mouth hanging open.

'Mr. Angel, it's good to see you sir.'

'Morning Mr. Angel.'

'Good morning sir.'


	86. Home: Part Two

_Part Two_

Lilah strode towards the team, purposefully - the crowds of lawyers crossing the lobby all scurried out of her way, clearing a path for her. She headed up a team of her own - five people followed her: a young, smartly dressed woman; a short guy in a slick suit; an older guy - stuffy looking and also suited; a scruffy looking young man in a lab coat and a young, friendly looking woman wearing pigtails and overalls. 'So, I see you all made it,' Lilah smiled at them. 'Well - not all. Somehow I just knew Princess Cordelia and her little half breed wouldn't be up for joining evil inc - see,' she gestured to the team behind her, 'I didn't even bother to arrange a guide for either of them. That's how sure I was.' She scanned Angel's team over, 'does that change any of your minds?' she asked, 'knowing that I knew _exactly_ which ones of you could be bought?'

They all glanced at each other, uncomfortably - but none of them said anything or moved. Lilah grinned even more broadly - her most dangerous, wolfish smile. 'Well, my my, don't we all have feet of clay? So - to work,' she clapped her hands briskly. 'Let me introduce you to your guides.'

'Guides?' Angel asked, 'separate guides?'

'Of course. There are 5 of you, all with specific interests, unique areas of expertise. Plus Connor. Seemed the most efficient way of doing this. Prioritise and personalise.'

Angel smirked, disbelievingly, 'you mean divide and conquer.'

'Oh you're so cynical - this is gonna work out great.'

'We don't split up,' Angel insisted. 'We came here as a team - to _be_ a team. So we're gonna take that tour as a team.' he turned to glance at his friends 'right guys?' But none of them answered him. Gunn was just staring at the smart, young woman behind Lilah, who was smiling back at him. 'Do I get her?' he asked, hopefully.

'Look,' Lilah said to Angel, 'your life belongs to us now - we have no intention of doing something as stupid as trying to kill you. You're a very valuable asset - and you're all ours. For all eternity. You'll be begging us to stake you before we're through with your existence…' she smiled brightly, 'but today is not that day. Not yet. You and your people will be completely safe. If we'd wanted to kill any of you we would have just blown up the Limo. But ...' she paused as a man wheeled a trolley laden with different types of guns out towards them. 'If you prefer to be armed during your stay here, we'd have no objections. Just because we've tried to kill or corrupt each and every one of you at one time or another doesn't mean we can't be trusted.'

'She's right,' Wesley said. He was watching Lilah closely - he knew her tells - she was on the level, for now. 'We've made deals with them before. They are honourable in their way. I doubt we'll be in any danger.'

'She was right about the Limo,' Lorne said. Gunn was still staring at the girl. 'Do I get her?'

Fred picked up the largest automatic gun from the cart and turned to her friends as she cocked it, 'I think we'll be alright.'

Angel stared around at them all. They were really all gonna do this - they were happy to separate from each other; wander off into the deep, dark forest with no one but their very own big bad wolf to guide them. Whatever it was they thought was on offer - they wanted it. Wanted it so much they were throwing all safety and precaution out of the window. And team spirit. What had happened to good, old fashioned team spirit? 'Guys -'

But no one was listening to him. Lilah was introducing Lorne to his guide. It was the short man: Preston - from the entertainment division. Preston approached the green demon. 'Hi, big fan. Huge. Love your work.' He held out his hand and Lorne shook it, looking bemused. 'I had this prepared.' He showed him a large, leather bound file. 'Confidential list. Peepers only. Thought you might want to take a gander at our roster. Just a rundown of some of the talent we represent here.'

'Uh, no, no, no, no. I don't think you have to tell me what you represent here, young man,' Lorne said to him, 'I know. Evil. Pure evil in the -' Preston cut him off simply by opening the folder and showing him the list. 'Huh. Which is also apparently everyone I've always wanted to meet.' Lorne chuckled - and he and the short man walked off together, leaving the others behind. Angel watched him go, sadly.

Meanwhile, Lilah was introducing Wesley to his own guide - the stuffy, middle aged man. This was Rutherford Sirk - and Lilah was sure that they would find they had a lot in common. Not least - that when Sirk spoke in greeting, it was revealed that Wes had just met a fellow countryman. The watcher disappeared with his guide - and then it was Gunn's turn.

'Charles Gunn, Lacey Sheppard,' Lilah introduced. 'I think you'll find that you two have _nothing_ in common.'

Gunn smiled as he shook Lacey's hand. 'You're not gonna try and corrupt me are you?'

'Wouldn't dream of it,' she replied, with a flirtatious smile of her own.

'Well, we'll have to work on that.' He followed her out of the lobby without so much as a backwards glance.

'Knox, Fred Burkle.' Lilah presented the scruffy guy in the lab coat to Fred. He was young and cute in a nerdy, affable sort of way. Fred smiled brightly, flushing a little, when she saw him. She tried to offer him her hand - but the gun got in the way. She giggled - flustered - and tried to rearrange the automatic weapon in her arms so they could shake hands. 'Hi.'

'Knox is the star of our science division,' Lilah told her.

Fred was still battling the gun. 'Nice to meet you.'

'You too - uhm - well - uhm - this should be fun.' They finally managed an awkward handshake.

'Yeah…' and she walked off with him, headed for the science lab - carrying her huge gun awkwardly in her arms.

Angel watched her go. 'Fred -' he tried to call after her. But she didn't hear him, didn't look back. He turned to Lilah, 'what now?'

'Now, there is Greta,' Lilah said - indicating the smiley woman with pigtails, who stepped forward. 'The chief au pair in the Wolfram and Hart daycare centre. You can give Connor to her whilst you take the tour.'

Angel looked down at the baby in his arms and held him tighter. 'My son? No way - he doesn't leave my sight.'

'It's perfectly safe, Mr. Angel,' Greta said to him, smiling, 'I'm very highly qualified.'

'She's not wrong,' Lilah agreed, 'all of the Wolfram and Hart au pairs speak multiple languages and encourage multilingualism in children from the moment they arrive.'

'Children Connor's age just absorb it like osmosis, Mr. Angel - Wolfram and Hart kids go off to preschool often speaking 3 or 4 different languages fluently.'

'They do?' Even against his better judgement, he was impressed.

'Sure - and Connor's a beautiful Irish name. My colleague, Bridget, will be happy to speak to him in Irish.'

'Would you like Connor to grow up speaking the old tongue?' Lilah asked, smiling wickedly.

'You can do that?' Angel asked.

'And lots more besides!' Greta told him, 'our programme seeks to stimulate and educate our children through the widest array of state of the art sensory experiences and child centred, child led learning and play. We offer the children of Wolfram and Hart employees one of the best starts they can have.'

'You do want Connor to get into Notre Dame, one day, don't you?' Lilah asked him.

'Notre Dame? You can do that?'

Greta laughed, and gently took Connor out of Angel's arms - and then lifted the satchel from his shoulder, slinging it across her own. 'Of course you can come down to the creche and see him whenever you want, Mr. Angel,' she told him, 'and you can have him in your office, as well - when it suits you. But for now - I think Connor will have a better morning finger painting with the other children than he will have looking around a boring, old law firm. Isn't that right Connor?' She switched to talking to the baby, 'say bye bye to daddy!' She waved goodbye - showing Connor what she wanted him to do. He chuckled and waved along with her - and then she smiled at Angel and carried the baby away.

'Alone at last,' Lilah said, 'I thought they'd never leave. Come on Charlie - let me show you the chocolate factory.'

* * *

'Anything?' Cordelia asked, as Doyle came down the stairs for the second time that morning. He shook his head. Nothing.

When the others hadn't turned up after an hour, they'd started to wonder. An hour later, still - and they'd decided to go and look. Doyle had been on the upper floors - checking the rooms. Cordelia had been down to the industrial kitchen and out in the garden - and even run across to the juice bar across the street to see if they'd been in there that morning. But there was nothing. Neither of them had any luck. The rest of the team were nowhere to be found.

'I can't believe this,' Cordelia said, putting her hand to her brow and pushing back her hair. She stared round - she looked like she didn't believe it, too. Her eyes were wide and shocked.

'Maybe it's not what it looks like,' Doyle tried to reason. 'Maybe Fred and Gunn just went out for breakfast - you know how Fred can eat. They could still be havin' pancakes at...' he checked his watch and frowned, '11:35.'

'And Lorne?'

'Maybe he had a client reading … way across town.'

'And Wesley?'

'Maybe he stayed at home today … to boink Lilah,' he was getting more desperate as he tried to come up with plausible whereabouts for his friends.

'I think we can safely say that Lilah is involved in all this!' Cordelia said, dropping down onto the red sofa, heavily. 'They've done it. They've actually gone and done it. The shark opened up it's big wide jaws and they just toddled past its teeth to try and get a better look at its tonsils. Not realising that _hello!_ They've just walked into a shark's frickin' mouth and they're gonna get swallowed whole.' She looked up at Doyle - there was hurt in her eyes as well as frustration. 'How could they do this?'

'Maybe they just wanted to protect Angel - to keep him company.'

'Or maybe they just wanted a slice of that turnkey, state-of-the-art, multi-tasking operation that queen bitch dangled in front of them.'

Doyle went over to her and sat beside her, he put his hand on her shoulder. 'You don't know it's that,' he said, trying to sound comforting. 'Maybe they'll come back.'

'What will we do without them?' Cordelia asked, 'it's one thing to lose Angel - but the entire team? I mean sure - you and me can take out a vampire or two but … I guess I was really counting on Gunn stepping into Angel's shoes. What will we do without our fighter? Or our researchers? Or our empathic contacts guy? It means we've gotta do it all ourselves- the vision dude and first aid lady. The research, the strategising, the fighting - plus balancing the books and taking the messages from the PTB. It's too much. We can't do this without a real warrior.'

'Hey,' he cupped her face with his hand and pulled her towards him, kissing her on the forehead. 'It's gonna be OK. They might come back - they might hate it at Wolfram and Hart and realise that their place is in the good fight - here with us. But until they make that decision - we got work to do.'

'Rifling through abandoned purses for valuables?' She asked hopefully. Doyle chuckled. 'Nope, sorry darlin' - I'm not wearin' my thief's hat today. I got my hero hat on. There's a lot of folks out there need savin'. Now Jasmine's gone - she's pulled the rug out from under her followers. The entire city is on the world's biggest come down. We gotta get out there and try and stop people from doin' anythin' they might later regret.'

* * *

Lacey led Gunn over a bridge which spanned the lobby. The street fighter gazed around - taking in the size of the newly rebuilt place, the grandeur and the scale of it. 'Pretty slick,' he said.

'What is?'

'You know, giving each of us our own little tour. It's a good way to isolate Angel.'

'Is that what we're doing?' she asked him, giving him a smile that gave nothing away. She led him off the bridge and down the hallway - passing cubicle offices as they went.

'Well, it'd be a big coup bringing Angel over to the dark side. Vampire with a soul, champion. It's gonna look good on anyone's letterhead.'

'What makes you think he's our priority?'

'Well,' he chuckled, 'this whole offer is because he signed that deal. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for that.'

'That's your first mistake,' Lacey said, still smiling. 'Angel has to be here - we own him. The offer isn't for him at all.'

'Uhuh - so who exactly is that you're trying to get your hands on? The whole thing's a bust if this was all a nefarious plot to get a hold of Irish's visions.'

'The Senior Partners have shown an interest in the half breed's visions in the past, it's true. But now their own vision is considerably wider in scope. You all have gifts we feel would be useful.'

'Well, I see what the others got, Fred's big brain, Wes' training, Lorne's mind-reading thing. Guess I just don't know what you guys expect me to do around…' he caught sight of the door Lacey was walking towards - and the men gathered inside, in their cheap polyester uniforms. The lettering on the glass proclaimed that this was the security office. '...here,' he finished. He felt himself deflate as he realised, his face became sullen. 'Though I think maybe I'm starting to figure it out. Yeah, bet I'd look real smart in one of them blazers.'

She stopped in the hall and turned to smile at him. 'Oh, I'm sure you would, but we have much grander plans for you, Mr. Gunn.'

He felt his insides reinflate. His face lit up. 'You do?' She only smiled again and walked off down the hallway. She had his interest now. 'Grander?' he asked.

'Let's go upstairs,' she said to him - and he followed after her gladly.

* * *

Fred and Knox had taken many corridors and were now much deeper inside Wolfram and Hart. The walls were painted white and there weren't as many windows here. It was like a labyrinth and Fred hoped that Knox knew where he was going - and how to get her back to the lobby once the tour was over.

'So are you a lawyer?' she asked conversationally, as they walked. She still carried the gun awkwardly in front of her and she felt more than a little foolish to have it, now that her guide seemed so completely nonthreatening. 'You don't look like a lawyer,' she said to him. He didn't. He looked far too friendly.

'No, I'm strictly R & D. Although, occasionally, some D & D.' She glanced at him and he realised that she might not know what he meant. She didn't look the gamer type. 'D & D, Dungeons and…' he started to explain and then cut himself off, that made him sound like a big nerd. He tried to change the subject. 'We actually have a dungeon. I can show it to you later if— ' he cut himself off again. She didn't want to see the dungeon. Now he was coming off as weird. He settled for just telling her about himself. 'Um, I manage the science division.'

Fred smiled at him, impressed. 'Seem pretty young to be a head of a whole science division.'

'Oh, I—I'm not the head,' he corrected her. 'I—I just manage it for the department head, which, I guess, you know, would be you.'

Fred came to a complete standstill - her eyes widening in shock. 'Wait - I - uh…'

Knox unlocked a door and pushed it open, ushering her inside. Her eyes were already wide at the news Knox thought she was his boss - but now her mouth fell open, as well, as she looked around. Awed and overwhelmed and deeply impressed all at once. Was there a word for beyond dumbfounded? 'Cause that was her right now. She was staggered, spellbound - dazzled by the space-age wonderland laid out before her. She was ... heck - she was tickled pink.

It was a huge laboratory - fully staffed and fully equipped. Bright liquids bubbled inside of beakers, people were doing chemical experiments, medical experiments - a person was being worked on over in one corner. There was tech in here the like of which she'd never seen before. And Knox was under the impression that she was going to head all of this up? 'Wow,' she gasped - unable to say anything more.

'I know. Everything modern technology has to offer, right at your fingertips.' He led her further inside so she could get a better look. 'Everything's state of the art, cutting edge.' Beside him Fred picked up a hand held piece of tech. 'That's one of my creations,' he smiled shyly.

'You might want to get out of the lab more. Personal organisers have been around for a while. I—I mean, not that it's not a nice Palm Pilot,' she finished, trying to spare his feelings.

But he only chuckled and opened up the handheld device so he could see the screen. He prodded it with a stylus. 'Yeah, I'll bet your buddy Matthew Partney at 6200 Crestwood Boulevard in Lubbock, Texas, would agree.' He leaned across and showed her the information displayed on the screen.

'Hey, how'd you know about Matt?' she asked in astonishment.

'Hacks into any electronic device within 100 yards. I—I patched in to your cell phone's address book,' Knox admitted.

She looked even more astonished - and began to laugh. 'You're like the— the MacGyver of Wolfram & Hart.' He laughed along with her. 'You're not wrong,' he said,'I can make anything out of …' he paused and considered all the tools that were actually at his disposal…. 'A fully equipped multi million dollar lab,' he finished - a little sheepish.

* * *

Wesley was led into a cherry panelled room with high ceilings and tall bookshelves. The whole place smelled of finely aged whisky and Cuban cigars and, underneath it all, the subtle aroma of ancient parchment. There was a desk in the middle of the room - an antique walnut thing with clawed feet - and on its surface was a dozen or so heavy leather bound books arranged in a neat row and bookended. Sirk gestured to the line of books. 'Our ancient prophecies wing,' he said.

Wesley stared at the dozen books, unimpressed. 'I think your wing's been clipped,' he said.

'Appearances can be deceiving.' Sirk walked around the desk and laid his hand on the top of the books. 'It's actually the most comprehensive collection of prophecy archives to be found anywhere.' He stared Wesley dead in the eyes - issuing a challenge even before he spoke. 'Choose something to read. Go on, anything at all… something _rare_.'

Wesley eyeballed him right back. 'All right. The Devandire Sibylline Codex.'

'Translated or Sanskrit?' still that challenging tone.

'Surprise me.' Wesley wasn't backing down either.

'I'm sure I will.' He selected one of the books from the line up and picked it up. Holding the spine of it to his lips, he whispered the name of the prophecy Wesley had asked for - choosing the Sanskrit version for him. Then he handed the book across. Wesley opened it - and watched as the blank pages magically filled up with the symbols and shapes of the Sanskrit text. 'The, uh, template you're holding provides access to anything stored in the firm's locked archives relating to prophecies, omens, revelations and so on,' Sirk told him.

Wesley nodded, as if deep in thought. 'Impressive... And does the Watcher's Council know you stole the only known copy of the codex when you left?'

Sirk was silent for a moment - the only slight sign of surprise he betrayed - before he answered, bluntly. 'There is no council.'

'Not any more, no,' Wesley agreed, flipping through the book - watching more and more of the prophecy appear magically on each page he turned. 'So you opted to, what, play for the other side? Cross the line?'

'These are complicated times. Lines get blurry. How did you know?'

Wesley looked around at the room - at its muted opulence, tasteful but luxurious - and lined so deeply with ancient books that the smell of leather and yellowing paper and dust tinged the air. It was a rich, warm smell that took him right back to the academy - reminded him so deeply of his time there, poring over the volumes and texts; learning the mystic arts; trying to impress his father - that the memory was almost tangible. He could feel that eager, curious, pompous and vulnerable young man he had once been more closely than he had felt him in years. More than anywhere else he had been since he first came to the States as a watcher, this room was home. And everything that word meant. 'There's just something about watchers and libraries,' he said.

* * *

'Money, clothes, women. Did I mention we have a juice bar?' Lilah said as she walked Angel down the hall.

'Great - I can get a mango and papaya smoothie while I while away eternity in my gilded cage of evil.'

'You know - once upon a time you were planning on whiling away eternity skulking in alleyways, feasting on rats. Is the gilded cage of evil really so bad?'

'It's evil,' he pointed out. But she only smiled, 'oh, Angel - it's so much more than that. Let's show him what's behind door number one, Bob,' she said - pushing open a pair of double swing doors and revealing a large, but dark office. 'I know it's not much,' she said to him, 'but the Taj Mahal was a bit of a commute.'

'Hmm - what? am I supposed to swoon? It's just an office.'

'Sure it's just an office,' she smiled, 'it's got that big important looking desk, the swivelly leather chair…' she leaned in closer, 'with massage features,' she winked. 'Then there's the T.V,' she picked up a remote control and pressed it. Across from the desk, a panel in the wall slid upwards, revealing a large flatscreen television. There was a hockey game on - and the picture was crystal clear.

'Cool,' Angel said in spite of himself, 'is that high def?'

She clicked again - and the panel slid back down. Angel tilted his head, so he could keep watching the game until the last possible moment. Then he straightened up and remembered himself. 'OK - desk and T.V. Good. Already had those - why are you showing it off like it's something special?'

'Oh that's just the beginning of what this office has to offer,' Lilah said. 'It also comes with some features that are far more rare - even in a fortune 500 company.'

'Like what?'

'Private elevator,' she told him. 'Care to take it for a spin?'

'What does it do? Drop me in a vat of holy water?'

She laughed, 'you know - I was pushing for that. but they went with the motor pool. Figured you'd like to stay mobile, what with all that rushing out to save the day you're so fond of.'

'Thanks but I already have a car.'

'Now you have 12.'

He opened his mouth to retort and then paused - and thought about it. 'Really? 12?' Again, the impressed tone had crept into his voice.

'12,' she confirmed, 'all sleek and sporty and shiny. They go real fast too.'

'They do?'

'And I've not even shown you the best part,' she told him. She went to the window and clicked a button. 'You're gonna love this.' The window shades started to slide open and sunlight began to pour into the room. The whole outside wall was a window and Angel was suddenly stood in a flood of natural light. He flung his hands up to his face, instinctively - for what little protection they could offer - and gasped in shock and pain … before lowering his arms and blinking in confusion. He looked at Lilah - his expression asking the question he didn't need to ask out loud.

'Necro tempered glass,' she said, knocking on the pane. 'The whole building's fitted with it. Helps keep those uplifting, wholesome rays from charbroilin' the boss, and 30% more energy efficient.' Angel closed his eyes and basked in the miracle of the sunlight touching his skin and him not bursting into flames. He felt the warmth he'd been denied for so long. 'Feels even better when you're naked,' Lilah whispered to him. She leaned in close, 'I could turn around.' He opened his eyes and looked at her. She grinned. 'I promise I won't peek. Well, maybe just a skosh.'

'Lilah…'

'Angel - think what this means. No more mysterious black clad creature of the night thing. You can be an almost real boy. You ever seen Connor play in the sunlight, Angel? I mean close up?'

A hungry expression took over Angel's face, lingering in his eyes - a look of longing, yearning. He shut it down - as quickly as it came. 'Close the blind,' he said.

'Angel-'

'I said close it, Lilah.'

She sighed and pressed the button again. The shades slowly slid back down and the light receded from the room until it was gone entirely. 'Good-bye, Mr. Sunshine. Hello, gloomy avenger.'

'Why are you doing this, Lilah?' he asked. 'You got me - I'm yours. So what games are you playing, giving me the first class treatment - every luxury I could ever want? more cars than I can ever drive? An innovative and interactive education programme for Connor? Why aren't you just locking me in the Wolfram and Hart dungeon? What's the play here?'

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle drove through the streets of L.A in Gunn's pickup - they had driven through central and were headed for Downtown. They stared through the windows at all the devastation around them: at the fires which still burned in the streets; the abandoned cars; the broken windows and open looting - and the people, wandering aimlessly, or sitting sobbing - or brawling in broad daylight.

'Look at this mess,' Cordelia said, quietly, 'look at all these people - they need a champion.'

'Well - today's their unlucky day,' Doyle said to her, turning the wheel and taking the pickup down the next block. 'Today they only got us.'


	87. Home: Part Three

_Part Three_

'There's no play,' Lilah said, she sat on the edge of the impressively large desk and crossed her long legs. 'No trick. You signed your life away to the Senior Partners - hey, been there - they like to treat their employees well. It's part of why we do it.'

'Not all their employees get treated well. I'm sure Linwood Murrow's widow could tell a tale or two … and then there's all the staff that got turned into zombies.' Angel said to her.

Lilah only gave a shrug, looking very smug with herself as she remembered the decapitation of Linwood and the way she had brought it about. 'Nothing in this life is risk free,' she pointed out, 'but then - you are a heck of a lot more valuable to the Senior Partners than the rest of us are. That was always the line. Even when we were trying to drive you crazy - we were expendable. You were not. Now...' she uncrossed her legs and then crossed them in the opposing direction, 'if you would feel happier locked in a cage, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. But you won't be much use in the Wolfram and Hart vault.'

'I don't wanna be of use to Wolfram and Hart.'

'You've always been of use to us, sunshine - ever since you got here, but that's not what I meant. I meant you won't be much use out there, to them. The hopeless. Not if you're doing penance in a little cell, somewhere dark and gloomy. Sure, _you_ might feel better - but at what cost?'

'How can I help the hopeless if I'm working for evil incorporated?'

She threw back her head and laughed out loud. 'With much greater efficiency than you ever did back in your crumbling old death trap of a hotel. That's for damn sure. Think of what you can do with the resources of Wolfram & Hart at your fingertips, the difference that would make. Nothing in this world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh, and it's cruel, but that's why there's you, Angel. You live as if the world were as it should be. With all this, you can make it that way. If nothing we do matters then all that matters is what we do. And you will have the resources, staff, funding, tech, helicopters and motorpool to _do_ a hell of a lot of good - if that's what you want, white hat.'

'Helicopters?'

She smiled even more broadly. 'We do have one or two. Or four or five. And, as CEO of the L.A Branch, they're yours to command.'

He shook his head. 'Look, Lilah - you're trying to seduce me with the cars and the sunlight and the promise of helicopters. I get that. But why do The Senior Partners want me seduced? Why are they OK with me using _their_ resources to fight _my_ battle - when we've been fighting each other for the past four years? That's the part that doesn't make sense. Why on earth are The Senior Partners suddenly OK with handing the L.A branch of their evil law firm over to the good fight?'

'Because you're a long term investment, Angel. An asset to the team that they intend to keep for a very long time to come. And unlike a certain heavy browed, unyielding champion I can mention, they know the value of compromise. You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.'

'You mean they want something from me …' he thought some more, furrowing the heavy brow Lilah had just made fun of. 'And in order to get it, they're gonna treat me right, give me everything I want, _bribe_ me into being their lapdog,' he realised.

'Well … yeah.' She raised an eyebrow at him, like that should have been obvious from the get go. 'But see - here's the thing, champ. You already belong to them. You can huff and you can puff and you can refuse to play the game … but you still belong to them. Meanwhile, whilst we've been having this fascinating little discussion right here, 6 innocent people have died. But that doesn't matter, there's always 6000 more round the corner - or up the coast.' She reached behind her and picked up a manilla folder from the desk and handed it across to Angel. He opened it up - taking out a heavy amulet - and read the pages.

'Sunnydale,' he said.

'That nifty little bauble comes with the file,' Lilah told him, nodding at the locket in his hand. 'Apparently, it's crucial for some kind of final battle. Guess they're in short supply up Sunnydale way. A bit gauche for my taste, but, hey, not a slayer.'

'So The Senior Partners are happy for me to disappear off to Sunnydale and help stop the apocalypse?'

'Not our apocalypse,' Lilah told him, 'we're pretty keen on it being stopped, yeah. We are working towards our own timetable.'

'And now I'm on the clock?'

She grinned, 'well - yeah. But until showtime, the Senior Partners are happy for you to fight anyway you see fit. And you can make a big difference to a lot of lives using our intel and resources - starting in Sunnydale. Why would a champion give up that opportunity?'

'Because you're trying to seduce me.'

'Just call me Mrs. Robinson,' she winked.

'What if I refuse to be seduced?'

She laughed again, 'it's a really _really_ nice motorpool.'

* * *

'Stop!' Doyle pressed on the brake and Cordelia pointed to what she'd just seen. There was a man on a rooftop - pacing up and down. They glanced at each other - could be a jumper. They'd already separated two young men who had got into a knife fight; taken a lost and weeping old lady home to her cats; Doyle had held a wailing and inconsolable baby whilst Cordelia had talked its sobbing mother into putting her own grief aside in order to take care of it; they'd backed their truck into three separate fire hydrants in order to release the gush of water and so put out street fires and they had talked all the people who just sat listlessly in their cars on 6th, not moving, into at the very least pulling to the side of the road and letting traffic flow freely again. All that and they'd been out less than two hours. The city was desperate. And now they had a jumper.

They parked up the car and headed for the building, scaling the fire escape to get to the roof as quickly as possible. The man was a cop - and he was pacing up and down by the edge of the roof, muttering to himself under his breath. His eyes were red rimmed and he was clutching his gun like he was a child and it was a teddy bear. 'Hey,' Cordelia said to him softly. She and Doyle stayed back - in case they spooked him - but close enough to reach him before he jumped. 'Are you OK?'

'I lost something,' the man said, half to himself, frantic and heartbroken. 'Something I need. I can't find it.' He stopped his pacing and stared at them. 'I can't find it!' he yelled at them, his sorrow bursting into anger.

'I know you have,' Cordelia said softly. 'I lost it too. But it's OK.'

'You can help me look for it,' the man said to them both, hope rising in him. But Doyle, with a sad smile, dashed that hope. 'I don't think we can, bud,' he said to him, his voice was soft and sympathetic - even if he had never felt this awful, aching loss himself, he had witnessed it enough times in his friends to understand something of what this man must be feeling. 'It's gone. But that's OK. You'll be OK.'

'He's right,' Cordelia agreed, 'when I lost it - it was bad. But I'm better now. Time makes things better. I promise.'

But the cop didn't want to wait for time to heal all wounds. He had lost something - precious, special … wonderful. He didn't even remember exactly what it was, but he knew he couldn't live without it. And if 'it'll get better in time' was all this world had to offer him, then he was done living in this world.

He looked at the gun in his hands. Doyle and Cordy exchanged an anxious glance and then - sure enough - the cop raised the pistol to his mouth, as if trying to swallow it. Doyle was there in a moment. He put his hand over the gun, and gently lowered the cop's own hand. 'hey, hey - you don't wanna do that, bud,' he said, gently. 'What you're feeling right now won't last. So let's just put this away, yeah?' he took the gun from the cop's hand and passed it across to Cordelia. She removed the clip and let the bullets spill out on the floor.

The cop was staring at Doyle, like he was a lost little boy hoping for help finding his mother. 'There you go,' Doyle said to him, once the gun was harmless, 'listen, you're gonna go home and you're not gonna do anythin' stupid, OK? You're gonna go home and remember all the million and one reasons you've got to live.'

'Home?' the cop asked - sounding dazed and confused.

'Sure,' Cordelia nodded, putting the now unloaded gun back into the cop's holster. 'Where is home?'

'Home,' he repeated. 'Yeah - yeah I can go home.' He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it up and showed the young couple the photographs he kept there. 'That's Sarah,' he said, pointing to a little girl, 'and that's Jill' - it was a woman, who was probably his wife, 'and that's our home, right there,' he pointed to a house in the back of the picture.

'You have a beautiful family,' Cordelia said to him, 'they mean the world to you - and you mean the world to them. So you're gonna get right on home to them. 'Cause I know they're missing you right about now.'

'Yeah…' the man said, sounding dazed.

'Doesn't matter what you've lost,' Doyle said, leading him towards the door to the roof access. ''Cause you've got a whole lot more waitin' for you back at your house. So you're gonna go straight back to 'em, hold 'em tight and tell 'em you love 'em. And you're never gonna think about leavin' them ever again. You hear me?'

'Yeah…' the man said, starting down the stairs, 'Sarah…'

Once he'd disappeared from view, Cordelia wrapped her arms tightly around Doyle and kissed him. 'I love you,' she said, nuzzling into his neck.

He looked pleasantly surprised, 'I love you too. Y'know - we've done a lot of good today.'

'There's still a whole lot more people who need our help,' she said.

'I know. But we're makin' a difference.'

'One soul at a time,' Cordelia agreed, 'the way it's meant to be.' Then she frowned.

'What is it?' Doyle asked her, looking down and noticing her sudden look of consternation.

'It's just …' she pulled away from him slightly, and took a deep breath, 'we're doing a good job, today. I don't mean to be all self congratulatory or back patty - but we are.'

'Right …?'

'We can help people. We can make a difference. But today … today is a day where we're dealing with ordinary people's trauma. Mystical trauma - but still just trauma. No superpowers needed just to talk to them. Today isn't about fighting monsters - so we're up to the task at hand. But what about when it is fighting monsters?' she asked. 'How will just the two of us manage then? And how will that affect the innocent people we're supposed to be helping?'

Doyle didn't have an answer for her … and despite the fact they had just saved a man's life, they both looked troubled as they left the rooftop and went looking for the next person to help.

* * *

Gunn stood beside Lacey in the elevator - tinny music played in the background. They'd been standing here a while now and it was getting a little uncomfortable. He chuckled, awkwardly, wanting to break the silence. 'This is the longest damn elevator ride I ever took. How big is this place?'

But she didn't answer his question. She just looked at her watch and then up at him. 'It's time,' she told him.

'Time for what?'

All the buttons for the different floors lit up - and then another button appeared above the others, magically. This one was large - and white. Lacey reached out and pressed it. Gunn's eyebrows shot up his forehead. 'Oh, no. Hey, we better not be going where I think we're going.'

'The answers you seek lie within the room.'

'The only thing I seek is the lobby.' He began to hammer on the button for the lobby level - but nothing happened. 'Already rubbed elbows with Little Miss Muffet once. Don't need a repeat with her replacement, and here I am thinking I'm getting seduced. Well, I'm getting screwed all…'

The elevator faded away in a blinding flash of light. There was a moment when Gunn could see nothing but the brightness and then - when his surroundings faded back into existence - he was inside the White Room. It was as large and as empty and as blindingly white as it had been before. Like an airhanger minus the airplanes. And the purest of whites. He looked around him, turning 180 degrees trying to catch sight of something… though apprehensive as to what that something might be, and unsure as to whether he really wanted to see it.

'Right. Come on, you got the wrong guy in here. This room's for the big—' he was cut off by a growling sound. A roar like the MGM lion. '...cats.' A black panther materialised out of the whiteness and padded towards him. He swallowed. 'I think I preferred the little girl.'

The panther came to a stop a few feet away and then just sat and stared at the young man. Gunn stared back. He was feeling something, understanding something - though he didn't know what or how. He felt like he was sinking into the panther's green eyes, being swallowed by its stare. And then he saw himself reflected in the iris of each eye. Twin Gunns looking back at him from the panther's own gaze. His own expression of fear, and bewilderment and something he couldn't quite place, reflecting back at himself. He took a couple of steps towards the panther - their eyes remained locked. The twin Gunns got bigger as Gunn got closer - and he had the strangest feeling of falling into the big cat, or of the big cat falling into him… he wasn't quite sure. He began to smile. The panther opened its mouth - and roared.

* * *

Angel had left the office, he'd left Lilah behind - and he'd found his way, with some difficulty, to the Wolfram and Hart creche. He didn't go in, though - he stood by the large window and stared through at Connor, who was sat around a little craft table with a handful of other toddlers. One of the au pairs - not Greta - was crouched beside him. '_Péint dhearg?' _she said to him, pointing at the red paint, '_nó péint ghorm?' _or blue paint. This must be Bridget. She was already teaching him Irish. Connor pointed at the red paint. '_Dhearg,' _Bridget repeated for him, not yet handing it over. '_Y..rig' _ Connor tried to copy her - not quite getting all the unfamiliar sounds, but a very good first attempt for a little boy still learning to talk. '_Buachaill maith,' _Bridget clapped, all smiles. 'Good boy,' and she handed him the red paint. He dipped his little fingers in and then slapped his hand down on the paper.

Angel smiled. If nothing else - Connor seemed happy in there. He didn't get much of a chance to play with other children, usually. Ever - in fact. Angel had always been too busy saving the world, or fighting off people trying to kidnap his son, to actually take Connor on a playdate. That - and the whole daytime, sunlight issue. When they were working at the hotel, Connor was always just palmed off on to whichever one of the team wasn't busy at that moment. And sure they played with him and talked to him and loved him … but it wasn't the same as having other kids around. Here - though - there were people who were employed specifically to keep Connor as the centre of their attention, whilst Angel and his team got on with world saving, and these people were formally trained in child care and development. They would nurture and stimulate him in a way that his own team just didn't have the knowledge to do. And the little boy would have real friends his own age. He wouldn't grow up a weird, antisocial loner like his dad.

He smiled as he watched Connor bow his head, a serious expression on his face as he pressed each of his painty fingers to the paper, making marks. Bridget was counting them for him, '_aon, dó, Trí, ceathair, cuig.' _

Connor was the reason he was here. Connor was the reason he'd signed that agreement in the first place and - watching him - he honestly couldn't say he regretted the decision. Sure - it hadn't worked - but he remembered the fury and the fear that had driven him that day. And he knew that he would feel it again, if Connor was ever taken from him or harmed ever again. He knew he would do the exact same thing again in a heartbeat that he didn't have. Anything for Connor. Always.

So here he was, trapped for eternity in Wolfram and Hart - for Connor - and you know, the little boy seemed to be doing quite well out of the deal. It could be a lot worse. If Connor were happy - Angel could withstand a whole lot.

Bridget looked up and saw him through the large window then. '_Féach!'_ she said to Connor, pointing towards Angel, '_Tá sé daidí… Tonn go daidí' _she waved her hand and Connor copied her - his face breaking out into the broadest, biggest smile when he saw his father watching him. Angel couldn't help smiling back. He waved - and then pushed the door open and went into the creche.

He crouched down at the craft table and gave Connor a kiss, 'hey,' he said, 'there's my big guy. Is Bridget teaching you Irish?'

'He's a natural, Mr. Angel,' Bridget smiled at him. He nodded at her in thanks. 'Yeah?' he said to Connor, 'are you having fun? What are you painting?'

'Dada,' Connor said, smashing the paper with the flat of his hand.

'You're painting me?' He tilted his head, looking at the red smush. 'You really captured me… great hair.' And he stayed in the room and watched Connor paint, as the warm sunlight fell on them through the necro tempered glass.

* * *

'There you are,' Lilah entered the library and found Wesley in there; sitting in a leather chair; reading a book; cup of tea in hand. 'I trust Sirk has been taking care of you?'

'Yes…' Wesley said, closing his book. He raised the mug, 'excellent tea.'

'I thought you'd enjoy the blends we keep here.'

'Darjeeling … Makes a nice change from all the godawful herbal stuff you yanks drink.'

'I think the secret is a little Assam - just for flavour. And what do you think of our ancient prophecy collection?'

'As impressive as the tea,' Wesley told her. He leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful, 'at least - the amount of only known copies your firm has stolen, and lost copies they have acquired is truly the most impressive part. I had heard that the Baskretian Minh codex had been lost at the turn of the 16th century, somewhere in East India - and never seen again since. And yet here it is - and I've just been reading it. There are texts here that the watcher's council would chop their left hand off for a chance to take a peek.'

She raised a sardonic eyebrow and laughed. 'Surely you must have had some understanding of the depth of our library when your boss cut off _my_ left hand to steal the Shanshu prophecy?'

'Oh - uhm -' he shifted awkwardly in his chair, 'right - bad choice of phrase, forgive me.'

She shrugged and smiled, 'I never blamed you in the first place.' It was Doyle she had always blamed for that. 'Besides … I got a shiny new one.' She waved her new hand in the air. 'So … you've had a peek behind the Wolfram and Hart curtain - but I want to show you where the real secrets are kept. Come with me?'

He put down his mug and his book and got out of the chair, following her out of the room.

She led him down the hallway and then through an internal door - which led to a narrow staircase going down. 'Basement,' she told him. 'Files and records.' She took him right the way down and then used her security clearance to open the door. The room was in darkness, but she flipped a switch and the lights flickered on, one at a time, illuminating rows and rows and rows of filing cabinets stretching away into the distance. Wesley stared - and then stared at her.

'The 30 cabinets to your right are the records we keep on Angel,' she said to him. 'Everything he's ever done, everyone he's ever killed - everyone he's ever saved. All here. But as you can see,' she gestured to the rest of the enormous room, 'Angel is not the only object of our interest.'

'So this is it,' Wesley said quietly. Lilah nodded. 'Here it is, every dirty, little scheme. Every secret, all that evil, great and small,' she said. 'Just imagine what you could accomplish with that kind of information.'

'Why did you want me to see this?' he asked - his voice was low, unsure.

'Because I wanted to make sure you knew what you were letting yourself in for,' she told him. 'Angel has to stay, Wesley, but you - you can walk away. This is your choice. And I can't let you make it unless your eyes are fully open. I want you to understand the full extent and scope of what we do - what we manage - here at Wolfram and Hart, before you decide whether to join us. '

'You tried to get me to join your ranks before.'

'That was before.'

'Are you giving the others this little tour, as well?' he asked.

She rested her hand on his shoulder and her chin on her hand - so their faces were side by side. When she spoke, her voice was soft. 'I don't care about the others.'

* * *

'Why are we stopping?' Cordelia asked. They were on the road that led under the 6th street bridge - and Doyle had just pulled over and killed the engine. She looked around confused - there was no one here that needed help. This place was abandoned. It was almost eerily quiet.

'This is the spot,' Doyle said to her. He pointed through the windshield, to the crumpled sedan, the smashed up station wagon and the broken power line. 'Or at least over there is.'

'The spot?'

'Where I killed her.'

'Oh.'

He got out of the car and slammed the door, headed towards the scene of the fight. Cordelia followed him, 'why are we here, exactly?'

'I borrowed Groo's sword. I need to get it back for him...'

'Yeah - but…' she followed her boyfriend - but at a distance, not wanting to see the … remains.

Doyle approached cautiously. He could see the body lying in a heap. The blood she had always been so careful of was oozing in a puddle around her, dried now - with flies buzzing around it. Her magic blood - that could break her spell and free the people. Doyle's blood. No wonder she had kept him so well guarded.

As he got closer, he recoiled - from the sight, from the smell - it made him gag and he clapped his leather sleeve across his lower face for what little protection it could offer . Rotten whilst she was still alive, Jasmine's body was now putrefying quickly: a heap of crawling maggots and buzzing flies and stinking flesh. A lowly, lonely ending for one who had risen so high - and been so loved. But a fitting ending for one so decayed through and through. Who had harmed so many.

His sleeve still firmly clamped around his mouth and nose, he took a few tentative steps forward and grabbed the fallen sword. It was smeared with her blood - which had dried to make the blade look rusty. He would need to clean it before he returned it. Then he hopped back a couple of feet, putting distance between himself and the festering corpse, before he looked at it again. 'We should move her,' he said over his shoulder, still speaking through the leather sleeve that acted as a mask.

'_What?' _Cordelia sounded incredulous. But Doyle stared up at the sky. There were no birds singing over head, wheeling through the air. There was no sound of crickets chirruping. There was no breath of wind. And of course - there were no people - no cars, no traffic. No life. 'Everythin's stayin' away,' he said, 'as long as she's here - this place - it's like it's cursed. No one wants to come here. Not the people, not the birds, not even the insects - except the ones feastin' on her. If the city's gonna get back to normal - we need to get this road back open. We need to get rid o' her.'

'Should we bury her?' Cordy asked. But he shook his head. 'She doesn't deserve that - a burial. And anyway - she'd probably poison the water supply or somethin'. We can't risk her hurting more people. We should just throw her in the trash. Find the nearest dumpster...'

'We can't do that! Like being a garbageman or working at the dump isn't bad enough, as it is, without having to deal with _that_ festering corpse. And she might be hazardous material - she might infect them… besides,' she shook her head, 'when the city goes back to normal - when everyone starts to repress - they might not remember who she is. Great gaping sword wound like that - they'd call the cops. And then the cops might remember the Svea family were killed with swords, as well. We can't risk a murder investigation.'

'Right,' Doyle said, still staring at the body - at the little cloud of flies buzzing around her. That was true enough - and would be just his luck. Jasmine's final revenge. Him up for multiple counts of murder one - and worse still, Cordelia being charged with accessory after the fact. They still had the death penalty in California. They really couldn't risk a murder investigation. 'We'll burn her then. It's probably for the best anyway - safer. To destroy her completely. Make sure there's nothin' of her left. Nothing she can cling onto and force her way back into the world.'

'I don't think she's coming back, Doyle.'

'I'd still rather be sure. We'll use the furniture from her room - chop it up into kindling - use it to build the pyre. We don't wanna keep nothin' of hers in the hotel.'

'OK,' Cordy said softly, 'there's a tarp in the back of the pickup - I'll just - I'll just get it.' She took the bloody sword off Doyle and carried it back to the car, exchanging it for the tarp.

Carefully, and with averted faces, trying not to wretch the whole way - they wrapped the festering corpse up in the tarpaulin - so it was covered completely- and then manhandled it between them and dumped it in the bed of the truck. Then they climbed back into the cab and Doyle started the engine. As they drove away - a starling flew over the bridge and began to sing.


	88. Home: Part Four

_Part Four_

Angel had sat in the creche with Connor for hours - watching him play, watching him learn - watching him have fun with kids his own age. This was the happiest he had ever seen his son. This was probably the best day of Connor's life so far - and Angel's sworn enemies had given it to him. And they would give him many more just like it. And they would give Angel a fancy office, a penthouse suite, his own motorpool … the full package. And of course - the necro tempered glass. As he'd stayed with Connor, the light had moved around the room - the shadows had grown longer. It had been a long time since Angel had experienced that in any personal way. And it felt good. He couldn't lie - it felt amazing.

But … for everything they gave him, everything they gave Connor - there was a price. Sure, Wolfram and Hart were saying he could still fight the good fight, help the hopeless, today. One day they would change their minds. One day that old apocalypse they had been working on since the beginning of time would rear its head - and he'd be expected to fight on the side of evil.

He wondered if they were moving up the schedule on that apocalypse. After all, Wolfram and Hart might own him completely, but he could only be trusted to play ball as long as Connor was a concern. Connor was mortal - he would grow up, move away from the law firm, hopefully uncorrupted, grow old and - much as it pained Angel to think it - Connor would die. And then Angel could walk away. What were they gonna do, kill him? He wouldn't care.

It was all a game, he thought to himself. It had always been a game to Wolfram and Hart, never been anything else. And now he was trapped inside, he was going to have to learn to play it properly. Sure, he would accept every gadget they offered him - enjoy every perk of being CEO, take advantage of every opportunity they offered Connor … but they would never seduce him, not really. He'd never really give into them. It would be all for show. And once he was free to get his own back … well, that wasn't a day he even wanted to think about, because it would mean he had lost Connor. That day would not be for a long time yet. That was good. He needed to prepare.

He and Connor would be happy here, but secretly they would never belong. And once Wolfram and Hart no longer had a hold on him - he would prove to them once and for all that all the sports cars in the world would not be enough to buy this champion's soul. And they would know - too late - what a wasted investment he had been.

* * *

Doyle and Cordelia stood in the park, their arms wrapped around each other. The sun was setting. They had been back to the hotel and chopped all of Jasmine's furniture into firewood and then driven to Plummer Park and built the pyre. Things were still crazy enough out there that they didn't garner too much attention - no one asked any questions … and tomorrow it would just be a bit more destruction in a city destroyed. Things were calming down, though - people were calming down, recovering, heading home. Maybe one day soon they would forget completely - and no one would remember why there had been riots in the summer of 2003. And the scorched patch in Plummer Park would grow over again before long - and Jasmine, her life, her death and her cremation would be lost to history.

Once the pyre had been built, they had carefully manhandled the rotting corpse out of the truck bed - carefully so as not to touch her, not out of any form of respect - and then dumped it on the top of the firewood. It had been a struggle wrestling the tarp off her body without coming into contact with her - but they had managed it. She was not gracefully laid out on top of her funeral pyre, though. Unlike Kali - she did not look like the marble effigy of a saint. She was face down, her limbs splayed awkwardly - because that was the way she had fallen when they had dragged the tarpaulin out from under her - and they were not going to touch her decaying flesh to rearrange her in a more seemly way.

Then, Cordelia had poured a can of gasoline all over their makeshift firewood and Doyle had thrown on a match. The flames wooshed up into the darkening sky; guzzling at the fuel; clambering and glowing and leaping like a thing alive. It burned with intensity, bright and hot. The young couple stood well back, arms around each other, but they could still feel the heat of it on their faces, feel their skin become parched of any moisture, feel their lips begin to crack.

Within a few minutes, Jasmine's body was completely obscured by the flames. The smoke rose in spirals, and sparks would jump out and crackle, the wood snapped as the fire ate it up - and there was now no way for the pair of them to see if Jasmine had been burned away to bone and ash. They were going to have to wait here until the flames died down. So - for now - they just stood and watched.

'What do you think she wanted?' Cordelia asked after a long silence. She rested her head on Doyle's shoulder, 'why did she want to come here? She was a higher power - she must have been infinitely more powerful up there than she was down here - in a body that could be killed.'

'Maybe it was too far away,' Doyle suggested, 'up there - maybe she looked at what we had and wanted to be a part of it.'

'Do you think she really came to save us? That's what she said - at first - that our suffering was too great and she came here to stop it.'

Doyle frowned. 'No,' he said, after he'd thought a while. 'I don't think that's true. Maybe she thought it was … but she killed a lot o' people. Caused a lot o' trouble just bein' born, and then once she was here she ate people just to sustain herself. She was here for selfish reasons.'

'You don't buy into that whole 'kill a thousand to save a billion' way of thinking, then?'

'Nope - not if no one's given a choice. Anyway y' _can't_ kill a thousand to save a billion. Those billion are still gonna die. Maybe in a different way, maybe a lot later on - but they're gonna die. That's the whole point o' bein' mortal. She was endin' healthy people's lives on the promise that someone somewhere in the world would live a bit longer than their allotted time … but still not forever.'

'They would have suffered a whole lot less, though,' Cordelia said. But Doyle disagreed - they were still suffering, just in a different way. They were slaves; their free will taken from them; their personalities were stolen from them and ultimately their entire lives would become meaningless. 'I know it's easy for us to say that free will matters more than ending poverty or hunger,' Doyle said, 'we live here - we're not hungry, there's no war… maybe starvin' people would accept Jasmine's deal, but they wouldn't really experience any o' the goodness. It wouldn't really be them. Jasmine couldn't save the people of this world - when she was around, they were dead already. They just didn't know it.'

'I still don't get it,' Cordelia sighed, 'why she was here, what it was she wanted.'

'I get it,' Doyle shrugged in reply, 'she wanted to be God.'

'She was already a higher power, how much more godliness could she want?'

Doyle frowned, watching the fire burn - watching the flames consume this pretender to the throne of people's hearts. 'She wanted the full package,' he said. 'The higher powers exist up on their higher planes, balancin' their scales, rollin' their dice, movin' their little chess pieces - always locked in the immortal struggle between good and evil for … not a damnded reason I can see, beyond it amuses them. Gives them a way to while away eternity, I guess. The earth's gonna fall into the sun one day - and none o' this will matter - so they're just playin' a game with their evil counterparts, seein' how long they can ward off the apocalypse. If they can keep humanity alive until the sun dies, then I guess they win. Though it'll still all have been for nothin' - it's just a game to them. '

He shuffled a little bit, shifting his weight - thinking. 'The Powers are the real deal,' he said slowly. 'but most people don't even realise they're there - only people like us, who got personal experience courtesy of my mindnumbing, skull crackin' visions which they send from time to time. And down here on this little earth, people look around on all the chaos and the sufferin' - and they decide that there must be_ somethin'_ bigger than them, _must_ be a plan. It _can't _be for nothin'. They can't conceive of The Powers - and how little they care - so they create themselves Gods. In their own image. Someone to blame, someone to pray to, someone to give their lives meaning. The Powers - they're too remote and cold for what humans want and need - so they make up their stories about an omnipotent somethin' that loves them. And they love that somethin' right back. No one loves The Powers - and The Powers don't care that people are worshippin' their false idols. Too busy movin' the chess pieces, usin' people like Angel - and me - as their pawns. They don't want our love. But Jasmine - she was different. She looked at all the love people were giving to Allah and Vishnu ... and Jesus, the temples built in their names - the acts, good and evil, done in their names - and she wanted it for herself. So she came down here, took our image and walked among us. And it worked - for a little while she was loved and worshipped as a God, and all those other Gods were thrown out. Forgotten about.'

'She got it wrong, though, didn't she?' Cordelia replied. Her face was wrinkled, half in thought, half protecting her eyes from the heat of the fire. 'She could never be a real God doing things her way. The thing with our man-made gods is: they're all responsible for free will. It's how we twist ourselves into believing there is a God and there is a plan even when someone we love has just died needlessly, or there's an earthquake, or all the other horrible things that happen. Bad things happen because people have free will and so we bring them on ourselves. And we have free will because God loves us too much to just keep us as mindless minions. He loves us enough to let us make mistakes and learn from them. I'm not saying it makes sense … but God given free will and the responsibility that comes with that is a tenet of all religion. Jasmine took our free will away - she didn't realise that you're not really a God if you're not allowing people the right to _choose_ to love you … or ignore you.'

'That's probably why she got bored of that insect world,' Doyle said - still staring at the flames, 'that's why she left them behind. And she would have done it here, as well. The love isn't enough for her, in the end, because it's forced. It's not real - so it leaves her empty. And when she realises that she moves on - and leaves devastation in her wake.'

'Well, she can never do that again, now,' Cordelia turned her head to look at him. 'Thanks to you. You've not just saved this world - you've saved every world she might have tried it on in the future.'

'Yeah…' his voice was heavy. He didn't sound like he was celebrating a job well done, a world saved - or taking pride in his part in all of that. She studied his profile, trying to work out what he was thinking. 'You OK?' she asked.

He stayed quiet for a moment, the flames leapt higher- they had not yet used up all their fuel, but it was only a matter of time. They would die down again in the end, and Jasmine's body would have been consumed into nothingness - ash to blow away in the wind.

She had tried this before - at least once - on a different world. Got inside someone, used them up - brought god knows what bloodshed and terror down as she forced her way into their world and then enslaved the creatures she found there. Made them worship her. Made them love nothing but her. And then she had got bored and she left. This time she had entered this world - and done it through Doyle - but knowing he wasn't the first, and knowing he wouldn't have been the last if he hadn't killed her, once and for all, made his guilt about bringing her here less terrible. And his guilt for what he had done to Kali. It was all Jasmine. It was what she did. He was just a pawn and he had stood no chance against her. She had done it before and she would no doubt have done it again - and none of the people she used to make it happen were to blame. But in the end, it was him who had managed to kill her and - Cordelia was right - in doing so he stopped the same thing happening in countless other worlds aeons down the line. Stopped other people like him and Kali from being infected. And Jasmine was gone now. She couldn't hurt him again, couldn't use him again - and she was no longer inside of him, no longer a part of him. Everything she was was on that pyre, burning away. So… was he OK? He took a deep breath, 'yeah,' he said, heavily, 'I guess … I mean … I will be. In the end. I can try and move on now.'

They stayed there watching, arms around each other, in silence, until the flames died out completely. Over head the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon rose in the now black sky.

* * *

Lorne leaned on the reception desk, swaying and singing to himself. His shirt collar was open a couple of buttons and his hair was tousled and he seemed to have had an entirely fantastic day. '_Could be...who knows? There's something due any day I will know right away soon as it shows. It may come cannonballin' down from the sky gleaming inside... Welcome back, Fred,' _he added into his tune, as she came back into the lobby, looking slightly overwhelmed. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug and then began to slow dance with her around the lobby. 'Hi. Hey. Oh, well, let me tell you, when this cruise ship sets sail, I will be on the Lido deck.' He chuckled. 'You know, I mean, it's unbelievable. Secrets of the universe, like Siegfried, evil; Roy, not so much. Oh, and balance? Very, very important.'

He extended his arm and span Fred out away from himself. She took a couple of turns and then bumped straight into Wesley, who had just that moment arrived in the lobby. 'Oh - uh - hey!' she stammered, a little embarrassed. 'Guess we're all straggling back, some more straggly-like than others.' She peered into his face. He was not singing and dancing happy like Lorne, his expression was far more … complicated. 'Are you OK?' she asked him.

'Just … uh, a lot to take in,' he told her. And that was the understatement of the century. He'd seen it all now, the files and records of Wolfram and Hart; understood just how much they knew - and what they could do with that information. And just how hopeless going up against them had ever been.

The elevator bell rang and Gunn stepped out. Fred smiled at him in greeting - before her face clouded as she took in his strange expression. 'You look…' she looked him up and down. Something was different. He wasn't the same as he had been when she had left him in the lobby, 'did they make you taller?'

'I'm doing this,' Gunn told the others. His voice was as determined as his face. 'Hope it's not just me, but if it is - that's alright too.'

'As much as it pains me to admit it, there's probably a great deal we could accomplish with the resources available here,' Wesley said. Throwing what was on offer away - to go back to the hotel, to take one case at a time and always worry about money - whilst Wolfram and Hart threw all the might Lilah had just shown him at them… that seemed like madness. Far more good could be done here - and that was what mattered in the end. How many people they helped, not if they, themselves, were happy about the way they achieved that.

Fred looked between all the men. Their minds seemed to be made up. She frowned. 'I can't believe it … are you saying we should take the deal?'

'There's no 'we' here, Fred,' Angel's voice cut in - and she turned to look. He had just arrived in the lobby, carrying Connor on his hip and the satchel over his shoulder. Lilah was with him. 'This isn't all or nothing,' he told the team. 'I gotta stay - that's the way of it. But each of you are free to choose. Fred - If you wanna go back to the hotel. Go. Doyle and Cordy will be delighted to have you back, I know it. If you wanna stay with the rest of the family - and take what Wolfram and Hart has to offer - that's up to you. What Wes does, or Gunn does, Lorne … doesn't matter - you decide for you.'

Fred did not look overly pleased with his words - she looked like she was hoping someone else would make the decision for her. 'You're asking me to choose between two halves of my family,' she said, frowning.

'I'm not asking - but that is what you gotta do, yeah. It is what it is - I can't work with Doyle and Cordy anymore. So, from here on out for any of you - it's me or it's them. It's the good fight … or it's wherever the future at Wolfram and Hart might lead us.'

'Seems to me like an exciting opportunity,' Gunn said.

'And we can do an awful lot of good here,' Wesley added.

'And the facilities are To. Die. For,' Lorne said, 'not to mention the contacts. You will _not believe_ who I met today...'

'You're never going to be given the opportunity to head up a lab like that, again, Fred.' Lilah told her. 'There is no other lab in the world like the ones at Wolfram and Hart. If you want to be a scientist worth reckoning with … you have a bright future here. I'm not sure the same can be said being in charge of the microscope back at the Hyperion.'

'Just think of the world changing breakthroughs you could make, Fred,' Gunn said to her. 'You could be right up there with Marie Curie and Elizabeth Aschelm.'

Fred frowned at him, 'how do you know about Elizabeth Aschelm?' It was Gunn's turn to frown … he didn't know. But it didn't worry him for long. 'What do you say?'

She looked around at them all - her boys - all looking at her for her approval. She looked at Angel - handsome man saved me from the monsters - the least she could do in return was follow him to Wolfram and Hart and make sure he didn't fall into despair or darkness. She began to smile.

'So everyone's staying?' Lilah asked. The team glanced at each other - and nodded. She smiled. 'Great - I'll go tell The Senior Partners. They will be so pleased to hear this.' She turned and headed for the elevator.

Once the doors had closed on her, the team all looked at each other. Apprehensive - but a little excited. Angel broke the tense silence that crackled between them. 'Right,' he said, 'there's somewhere I need to be. Wesley?' he handed Connor and the satchel across to the watcher, 'take care of Connor for me while I'm gone?' Then he headed for the elevator himself. He dipped his hand into his pocket, feeling the amulet in there, as he left.

* * *

Doyle and Cordelia arrived back at the hotel. Jasmine was gone - it was time to move forward. They paused, as they reached the front door - the lights in the lobby were on. They glanced at each other … maybe the team…? Cordelia pushed the door open, excitedly, tumbling through … but then came to a stop. It wasn't the team. It was only the Groosalug. He had Kali with him, though she was still unconscious - he had laid her out across the red sofa.

'Oh … Groo,' Cordelia said, her heart sinking inside of her. 'I thought …'

Groo got to his feet. 'Your Majesty,' he bowed his head to Doyle, 'Chosen Consort,' he bowed to Cordelia.

'Groo - hey - this is a nice surprise,' Doyle, contrary to Cordelia - had suddenly felt his spirits rise. He couldn't believe they had been so stupid. 'You're just the fella we needed right now.'

'He is?' Cordelia asked him, looking confused.

'Sure - we need a champion, he's an undefeated champion…'

'Groo can take Angel's place on the team!' Cordelia realised. 'He can do the fighting, whilst we do everything else … that works great!' She turned her smile on the Groosalug. But the undefeated champion did not smile in return - or if he did, it was a sad, small one. 'Forgive me Radiant One,' he said to Cordelia, 'but I cannot stay here and fight in your battles. Though it grieves me to leave - I must.'

'What are y' sayin', man?' Doyle asked him, 'Jasmine's gone - that's all over now, bud. Things can get back to normal - with your help.'

'And I truly wish I could help you, Your Majesty, but there is a place I am needed far more.'

Cordy and Doyle exchanged a mystified glance.

'I only returned to the hotel to wish you farewell - and to take my leave of you, Majesty. And to reclaim my sword.' He lifted it a little way out of his scabbard to show Doyle he had indeed taken the weapon back. Doyle nodded - glad he'd thought to clean it before they had headed out to cremate Jasmine.

'Where are you going?' Cordelia asked him.

'First - I will travel to distant Florida. To return my Lady Kalimania to her people. I fear she will never awaken again into this life, but still she should be with the people who love her.'

'You love her,' Doyle pointed out.

'But she does not love me,' Groo smiled sadly. 'She loves you, Your Majesty - but your heart is not yours to give. It belongs to Her Radiance and always has done. My time with My Lady Kalimania will always be precious to me - and always bitter. For it was never she who looked at me with love, who said such sweet words to me. It was the monstrosity inside of her - the creature that has left her dead to this world. My Lady needs to be where she belongs, not with one who would selfishly keep her for himself.'

'Undefeated and still reigning champion,' Doyle said, smiling at Groo - though his smile was as bittersweet as the Groosalug's. 'You really are a good man, Groo. Like no other.'

'And I believe the same is true of you, Your Majesty. I came to your strange land to seek your wise counsel. The events of the past months have been … like no other. But I believe I have learned some things, nevertheless. Every world is troubled, every world is plagued by doubts and hardships. Every world is cruel and harsh in it's own way. That is why they need champions. Like me - like you. We live in our worlds as if it is as it should be - to show it what it can be. We protect the innocent and we help the hopeless and, whilst we cannot ever truly end all suffering, we can make that suffering a little less. Make our worlds a better place, just by being there - doing what we do… My own world is missing it's champion, Your Majesty. I must return to it. I have been gone too long. I cannot make things right in Pylea by not being there at all.'

'You need to go back to your own people - and Kali needs to go back to hers. I get it,' Doyle said, softly.

'But ... we need you here!' Cordelia protested. 'Angel and the others. They've left us. We're all that's left of the good fight.'

The Groosalug looked down, obviously pained by this news. 'I am sorry to hear that,' he said. 'Angel was a worthy champion - a true warrior. But his abandoning you is no different to what I did to my world. I must go back, Your Radiance - else I am no different to Angel. But I am confident your world will be well,' he smiled at them - showing his pointed, white teeth. 'It has Your Majesty and his Chosen Consort to protect it.' He bowed to them again - and then he picked up Kali in his arms. 'Farewell, Your Majesty. Goodbye Your Radiance. May your gods go with Your Highness and his Chosen One.'

'Bye Groo,' Doyle said, 'same to you.'

And with one last look at the Royal Couple of Pylea, the Groosalug carried Kalimania out of the hotel and left them alone.

...

Cordelia sat down on the steps and sighed deeply. She rested her elbows on her knees and her fists on her cheeks. 'Well - that's our last hope of a champion walking out of the door, right there. We really are alone.' She looked up - taking in the high ceilings and the curling balustrade: all the art deco touches she had seen every day for the past three years - so that she had just stopped seeing them in the end. 'They're not coming back are they?'

'No.'

'We're all alone aren't we?'

'Yeah.'

She sighed again. 'Well, I guess this is goodbye.'

Doyle looked surprised - and frightened. 'Wait! _what?_'

She looked up at him. 'Not goodbye to you, dummy!' she said. 'Goodbye to the hotel. We can't run a place this size, the up keep - the rent. No way we can afford it. And Lord knows we won't need the room.' She got to her feet, walked over to Doyle and wrapped her arms around him. 'We're the new slimline, downsized Angel Investigations,' she said. 'We need to downsize our HQ. Economise. We don't know where the next cheque is coming from - and now we're the bosses, we need to worry about that.'

'You always worried about that.'

'Well, Angel was completely hopeless when it came to money. But - I mean it - there's no need for the two of us to have an office this big. And … I don't wanna stay here without the rest of them.'

'OK,' Doyle nodded, 'but - uh - if we move out of the hotel, I don't have anywhere to live … again.'

She kissed him, 'well, just until we get things up and running - I'll let you crash at mine.'

'Yeah?' he smiled - and leaned in for another kiss.

'Yeah.'

...

Slowly and sadly, they gathered everything they wanted from their old bedrooms: their changes of clothes; their weapons they stored there; Doyle's year old dirty laundry. Then they went to their desks and cleared out all the office equipment they wanted - and then into the office to take all the books from the AI library. They piled everything up in the bed of Gunn's pickup and then went round the hotel, unplugging all the electrics, switching off all the lights and locking the doors.

They left via the backdoor - one last time in the little courtyard. The moon shone down on them, the way it had so many times in the past. The scent of the jasmine bushes wafted across the air - though it no longer seemed quite so romantic as it once had. They stopped for a final kiss by the fountain. 'You sure you're OK?' Doyle asked her, softly.

Cordelia shook her head. 'I guess … I will be.'

'I know what you mean… so this is really it?'

'Yeah.'

'This is the end.'

'Yeah.'

They walked out of the little garden and closed the gates; padlocking them closed for the first time in … ever. And then - arms wrapped around each other - they walked away from the hotel, and away from the past.

* * *

There had been a limo waiting for Angel when he left his new office. That had been a surprise. But now he was in the back, being driven by a chauffeur through the night - north along the coast. To Buffy. The world was upside down. More upside down than it had ever seemed before. Black was white, night was day, he trusted Wesley with his son … and he worked for Wolfram and Hart now.

The good fight. He was being tested. Being offered the world on a plate and more besides. And it was only now that he was being given everything, that he was going to find out just how much he had to lose. Himself. If he couldn't resist the temptation, allowed himself to be seduced, if he stopped living in the world the way it was supposed to be, showing it what it could be - then he would lose himself, and everything that had ever given his life meaning. This path was going to be hard. It was going to be relentless. And he was going to beat it.

But all in good time. For now, he was off to Buffy. To fight by her side. If nothing he did mattered - then all that mattered was what he did… and tonight he was going to save the world. Again.

* * *

The sun had barely risen when Doyle and Cordelia had got up. It was two days later but they hadn't slept much that night or the one before - despite their lack of sleep their last night in the hotel … and all the weeks previously. No matter how bad things got - another problem just seemed to keep arising. And now they were facing the mission without a champion.

It had been a slow start. There was nothing to hurry up for. They hadn't left the house in two days. They had thought about taking the pickup out to recover the Plymouth from where they'd abandoned it but … maybe later. They'd watched some morning T.V in their pajamas, had breakfast, taken their time over getting in the shower, getting dressed. They were downcast and downhearted.

Now, Doyle was sitting on the sofa whilst Cordelia fixed them some more coffee, in the kitchen. 'You know, maybe this is the universe trying to tell us something,' Cordelia called through into the other room. 'No income … no champion … maybe The Powers are telling us to move on, have a normal life.'

'I don't think so,' he called back.

'What? Are we gonna break out our champion Rolodex? We can't do this alone and we don't know anybody with the power to step up to the plate. Unless The Powers are gonna hand us a brand spanking new champion in the next couple of minutes … I think it's over for us…' There was a moment of quiet, as she contemplated this. 'I think we need to get normal jobs,' she said.

Normal jobs. Doyle rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head. As if it were that easy. Even she didn't sound convinced. And - assuming they found normal jobs - it still didn't solve anything. He still had the visions - still had the mission. They'd still have to help the hopeless, only without a champion and around a 9-5 work schedule. He couldn't imagine his boss at Starbucks would be impressed if he spilled the frappucinos every time he got hit by a vision. He'd get fired in weeks - days maybe. And it wasn't like they wanted normal jobs anyway...

He heard Cordelia walk into the room

… this life might have chosen them. But they had chosen it right back. It was a part of them - it was how they defined themselves. No - they were just going to have to find a way to stay in the fi…

He looked up as he heard the sudden crash of the coffee cups hitting the floor. The mugs were smashed on the ground and the hot liquid was pooling out. But Cordelia wasn't even paying attention. She was stood still - frozen. Shocked.

'Cordelia what's …?' BAM! He was thrown back against the couch cushions as a head spitting vision migraine crashed into his skull. He threw his hands up, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes to try and ward off the pain. He saw … a living room. With a whole bunch of girls sitting in it and … was that Willow? … And Faith? Someone was talking, a girl. Buffy.

...

'_So here's the part where you make a choice: What if you could have that power...now? In every generation, one slayer is born... because a bunch of men who died thousands of years ago made up that rule. They were powerful men. This woman,' _she pointed at Willow_, 'is more powerful than all of them combined. So I say we change the rule. I say my power...'_

He saw a girl, her hair blowing back as if in a breeze, suddenly sit up and smile.

'_... should be our power.'_

He saw that same group of girls from the living room underground now, holding weapons, breathing deeply.

'_Tomorrow, Willow will use the essence of the scythe to change our destiny. From now on - every girl in the world who might be a slayer … will be a slayer.' _

He saw a little girl stepping up to the plate to bat, looking nervous. And another girl stood in a school hallway, holding onto her locker as something seemed to take her over.

'_Can have the power … will have the power. Can stand up …_ will _stand up.'_

He saw a fist swing - and a woman suddenly stand up from where she had been beat down and catch hold of it.

'_Slayers - every one of us … make your choice.'_

He saw Willow shining with pure white light - a weapon in her hands shone with the same bright intensity - the brightness hurt, even mixed in with the vision pain. Then he saw Buffy one last time. '_Are you ready to be strong?'_

Then the vision ended on the face of one final woman, standing in her living room, looking shell-shocked.

...

As the vision pain receded, Doyle rubbed his face and then brought his hands down - to stare at the final woman from his vision. She stared right back at him. She was shaking. 'Doyle,' Cordelia said, her voice trembling as badly as the rest of her. '_What the hell just happened to me?'_

**The End**

* * *

**A/N And on that note - we'll leave the season there. Thanks to everyone for reading, I really appreciate it - and well done for getting through season 4. It is awfully ... season 4. But the dark times are now over and there is a shiny new beginning for everyone still to come. **

**WYDA will return with season 5 towards the end of the year (assuming a no deal brexit hasn't resulted in knocking out the power supply/ internet connection - if it all goes a bit #operationblackswan then you might never hear from me again... but you have to laugh, because otherwise you'd cry). So (all being well) I will see you all for the final instalment of Doyle and Cordelia's journey in a couple of months time xx **


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